Sings the Ballads of the True West
Album - 27 agosto 2002 - Debaser id 77762

On the shores of Gitchgoomy by the shining big sea water
Hiawatha old and greyin' listened to the older prophet listened to lagu
And the young men and the women from the land of Ojibways
From the land of the Dakotas from the woodlands and the prairies
Stood and listened to the prophet heard lagu tell Hiawatha
I have seen he said a water bigger that the big sea water
Broader than the Gitchgoomy bitter so that none cold drink it
Salty so that none would use it
Hiawatha then spoke to them stopped all their jeering and their jesting
And he spoke to all the people
It's true what lagu tells you for I have seen it in a vision
I have also seen the water to the East to the land of morning
And upon this great water came a strange canoe with pinions
Bigger than a grove of pine trees taller than the tallest tree tops
And upon this great canoe were sails to carry it swiftly
And it carried many people strange and foreign were these people
And white were all their faces and with hair their chins were covered
Then said Hiawatha I beheld a darker vision
Many hundreds came behind them pushed their way across our prairies
In our woodlands rang their axes in our valleys smoked their cities
Our people were all scattered all forgetful of our councils
Left their homelands going westward wild and woeful
And the man with bearded faces the men with skin so fair
With their barking sticks of thunder drove the remnants of our people
Farther westward westward westward then wild wild and wilder
Grew the West that once was ours

Mr Garfield been shot down shot down shot down Mr Garfield been shot down low
Me and my brother was down close to the depot when I heard the report of a pistol
My brother run out and come back in all excited
And I said what was it and he said it was the report of a pistol and then he said
Mr Garfield been shot down shot down shot down Mr Garfield been shot down low
Lord I knew the President was supposed to be at the depot that day
And we just would't believe that he's shot
But we'd run over there and there was so many folks around
That we couldn't see him but some lady was standin' there cryin'
And I said m'am what was it that happened m'am and she said
Mr Garfield been shot down shot down shot down Mr Garfield been shot down low
Well everybody drifted off toward home finally
And they looked like they felt about as bad as I did
But in a few weeks I heard that the President was still alive
And I told my brother I said let's get on that train and go to where he's laid up hurt
Well when we got to his big house up there I asked the fellow
I said who was it that did it who was it that shoot the President
And he said it was Charlie Guiteau that shoot Mr Garfield and I said
Charlie Guiteau done shot down a good man good man
Charlie Guiteau done shot down a good man low
I heard some fellow there that had been in the house to see the President
And I sidled up him to listen to what he was tellin' and he said
Mrs Lucretia Garfield was always at his side
In the heat of the day fannin' him when he was hot
He said that just that day the President said to Mrs Lucretia
He said Crete honey (he called her Crete)
Said if somethin' worse happens to me after awhile you get yourself a good man
And Mrs Lucretia said James (she called him James)
She said I won't hear to that now she said I love you too much but he said
You'll make some good man a good wife good wife
You'll make some man a good good good wife
(Don't pull in single harness all your life good gal
Don't pull in single harness all your life)
That's what he said don't pull in single harness all your life
Well a few days later I come back to where the President was restin'
And it seems everybody was cryin'
The flag was hangin' halfway up to the flagpole in front of the house
And everybody looked so sad and I asked a soldier boy there
And I said is is is Mr Garfield and he said yeah he's gone
Gonna lay him in that cold lonesome ground down low
Gonna lay him in that cold lonesome ground
Well they laid the President by that long cold branch Mr Garfield's been laid down low
Mr Garfield has been shot dow Mr Garfield's been shot
(Mr Garfield been shot down shot down shot down Mr Garfield been shot down low)

There's a blizzard comin' and I'm wishin' I was home
For my pony's lame and he can't hardly stand
Lord my hands feel like their froze and there's a numb that's in my toes
But it's only seven miles to Maryanne
It's only seven miles to MaryAnne

You can bet we're on her mind for it's nearly suppertime
And I know that there's hot biscuits in the pan
Listen to that norther sigh if we don't get home we'll die
But it's only five more miles to Maryanne
It's only five more miles to MaryAnne

That wind's howlin' and it seems mighty like a women's scream
And we'd best be movin' faster, if we can
Dan, just think about that barn with that hay so soft and warm
It's only three more miles to Maryanne
It's only three more miles to MaryAnne

Instrumental

Come on Dan get up, you honory cuss or you'll be the death of us
I'm so weary but I'll help you, if I can
All right, Dan, perhaps it's best we'll just stop a while and rest
For it's still another mile to Maryanne
It's still another mile to MaryAnne

Late that night the storm was gone and they found him there at dawn
He'd made it but he couln't leave ol' Dan
Yes, they found him on the plains his hands frozen to the reigns
He was just a hundred yards from Maryanne
He was just a hundred yards from MaryAnn

We made camp along Red River
Watched the cattle as they bedded down
Back at the wagons, right after supper
We spread our bedrolls on the ground
And me and Willie, we took the night guard
And the sage never smelled so sweet
The prairie moon, was blazin' silver
No chance tonight for a stampede

Way over yonder, off in the distance
Towards the mountains there in the west
Did I see lightnin', did I hear thunder
My mind is weary, I could use some rest
Then all at once, the wind shifts directions
The clouds roll in behind the tumbleweeds
These longhorn cattle, are gettin' restless
God help us all, if they stampede

Smell the rain, hear the thunder
The midnight sky, turns black as death
The lightnin' crashes, smell the sulphur
It's rank and strong, it's Satan's breath
The cattle rise up, and go to runnin'
I spur my pony on and take the lead
And across the herd, I can hear Willie yellin'
Hey Stampede!

Dust clouds rise, as the rain falls
They mix together, turn the air to mud
I feel the longhorns brush against me
And I can feel the demons racin' through my blood
Then all at once, my pony stumbles
We hit the ground, I rise up to my knees
In a flash of light, I can see the cattle comin'
Lord I know I'm gonna die in this stampede

Then I awake, and I look around me
I'm in my bedroll and I'm layin' on the ground
Over there's the wagon, and there's the campfire
I was only dreamin', but what's that sound?
Then I feel the earth tremble underneath me
As the midnight sky begins to bleed
And from the blackness I can hear Willie yellin'
Hey Stampede

Never in this world before or nevermore hereafter
Could a land know such a people as the pioneer the cowboy
His clothes his conversation his unique brand of lingo
All his devil deeds of daring his hat his bandana the dirty boots and ragged chaps
But mainly that sixgun dangling so's his hand could get it quickly
But draw your own conclusions lean to your own understandings
Your beliefs and your convictions
Disprove any fact recorded in these sounds and songs and legends
But I ask you if you do be sure you've walked in many mocassins
Over many many pathways and that you have listened carefully
Really listened to the west wind and to everything it whispers
And then go back and listen listen to this once more to these legends and traditions
They're only one reflection of a tick of time of that time
Just ponder on the things that happened
As we gaze so very deeply in the time and place and persons
Seeing now and then the West as it really was
And to tell you of a little that we saw there
And looking backward through a century
There was the True West there was the Real True West
Not demanding an argument but rather hoping you looked with us
And saw it as we saw it
And heard that west wind screaming shouting almost speaking
Always whispering of these things we sang and spoke of
And you'll hear perhaps the things the we said in the stories
And the legends and traditions
Through the wind that breeze these tales of the ones who never made it
Yet fighting heat and mountains plains and valleys snow and hunger
They went westward westward westward