He Came Down from the Mountains
He came down from the mountains.
The brim of his cowboy hat full of dust.
The spurs on his boots were all covered with rust.
But the legends he made and the stories they wrote,
Have not lost a word nor the songs lost a note.
His horse was a wild one.
He caught him one day by a panhandle lake.
The horse bowed to drink, ‘twas his only mistake.
No one could ride him but the cowboy could.
And the horse is still wild and the cowboy is good.
None of the townspeople knew ’where he came.
But it’s a good thing that he came on the day
When four ugly outlaws of notable fame
Came from out of the badlands.
Down to the town to wreak havoc and war.
They shot the sheriff and plundered the stores.
But the cowboy came riding from one end of town,
And the four outlaws heard his horse breaking the ground…
He was fast with a quick draw.
Four of the bullets from his Colt 45
Buried themselves in the mean, dirty hides
Of the four ugly outlaws and they told it forever:
Their four guns had barely a chance to clear leather.
He stayed to help the town back to its feet.
But early one night when the sun had gone down,
The brother to one of the four came to town.
And he called out the cowboy.
In the dark of the night came the fire from their guns.
One of them fell and the other one run.
But the cowboy who fell held the wound in his side,
Then called for his horse and the cowboy did ride.
And he chased that old outlaw.
Just out of town the shots faintly were heard.
The cowboy came back without saying a word.
He rolled up his blanket and stuffed his trail pack;
And road out of town and he never came back.
The story is told that he shot an old friend.
But when a fight starts and no one knows your name,
You speak very little and you take careful aim.
He came down from the mountains…