BOOT HILL

It is a quiet old spot just a ways out from town

And you seldom see hardly a soul there around

For all that is up there on that barren, old hill

Are those dirty skunks whose ways got 'em killed

There’s old Todd Crane, a full-time drunk at his best

Got a hot .44 lead slug right through his leather vest

And over yonder is the famous outlaw, Farley Granger

Died face-down in a shootout with a Texas Ranger

Under that old lone oak tree lies old,sorry Bill Cobb

He was bad to rob trains; both him and his mob

And right beside him is the one and only Curly Brown

Everyone remembers the day when he came into town

That old worn, wood marker by the narrow entrance gate

Is for a Texas gunslinger by the name of Aubrey Slate

He was a fast one and a downright mean and ornery lot

But in the end, he was not the one with the winning shot

Sam Jenkins has a marker that stands out there alone

It’s the only one up here that is made from cut stone

Seems his family cared enough to bury him right

After he got himself killed in a barroom gunfight

There’s that killer-for-hire named Slim Twilley

Came to town riding a pretty,little sorrel philly

He got himself shot dead and never left of course

But rumor has it his killer is still ridin’ that horse

That one in the corner; that sir, is "The Amos Black"

A card-shark and a deck he could truly stack

But he got caught while not playing it straight

His last hand, a full-house, those Aces and Eights

There’s some bad ones there but none will hurt you

And there is not a one with any redeeming virtue

But we planted them there and they remain there still

Them low down skunks we buried upon ol’ Boot Hill

(c)Copyright WBrown2012. All Rights Reserved

21 March 2012