Pony Express Riders
By: Wayne Brown
The horse is saddled and ready awaiting me to mount his back
With a short run and a leap to the saddle, we’re off on track
The pony is going at a trot; he fights the bit as I slow his pace
We’re Pony Express Riders; our movements are done in haste
We’re carrying the high-tailin’ mail from Missouri out of St. Joe
The saddle bags won’t stop moving until they reach Sacramento
We ride in relays across the mountains, prairies, and plains
We’re Pony Express Riders, through the snow, winds, and rains
The horses trot, cantor, and gallop the ten miles to the next site
A fresh pony is waiting to repeat the next leg, whether day or night
Arrive at the station, change horses, and off again with a shout
We’re Pony Express Riders, hurried along our western route
Sometimes the hombres chase us; sometimes Indians will attack
The damn fools must think we have money in these sacks
But we always make it through outrunning their weary steeds
We’re Pony Express Riders, moving west as the trail leads
Lying down on the pony’s neck lowers our resistance to the wind
The mochila is packed with mail and handed off again and again
Both rider and horse will go down keeping that mail pouch in hand
We’re Pony Express Riders, gettin’that mochila to California land
We are young and brave and our ponies are the best of the steeds
We’ll ride through the fires of hell and schedules we will heed
How we get through the perils is to some a mystery
We’re Pony Express Riders, riding hard and making history
© Copyright WBrown2010. All Rights Reserved.
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