Story Behind The Song
I had been listening to a lot of Marty Robbins and to write a cowboy song fitting for The Pine Box Boys. The song has become a live favorite.
Song Description
A desperado senses a ghostly pursuer drawing near. The rider could be any number of folks whom this cowboy has done wrong. Driven by dreams of this ghost in the saddle, he rides until his horse can go no further. Taking a sip, he chooses to stand his ground, vowing to "shoot any gringo with iron on his hip." As the rider approaches, he seems to wrapped in a death shroud, but after he hears HER voice, he realizes who his pursuer is: the fiance of his brother whom the speaker killed in jealous rage on their wedding day.
Song Length |
5:24 |
Genre |
Country - Alternative, Country - Cowboy |
Tempo |
Fast (151 - 170) |
Lead Vocal |
Male Vocal |
Mood |
Worried |
| |
Lyrics
I traded in my horse at Amarillo
For a philly that looked like she could run.
And if he finds me before I make the Rio,
I swear to God he'll find me with my gun.
I've never seen him, but I'm sure he's out there.
I must have known him; I must have wronged him.
I vowed to ride, and spurred the flesh from my horse's side,
And I kicked her and I gored her and I pressed her for the border
For I place where I could hide.
And Lord, I prayed, least let me make it to Monterey,
And if my prayer you will hear, I swear I'll disappear,
And I'll throw my guns away.
I fell asleep sitting in the saddle,
And dreamed of the ghostly rider on my trail.
But when I wake, I start to shake and rattle,
And I know the philly's legs are 'bout to fail.
And so I crossed the river, and I turned to face him.
I'll make my stand here, and I will die here.
I took a sip, for I felt my courage start to slip,
But I'll shoot any gringo who tries to cross the Rio
Wearing iron on his hip.
And up the trail, he's a good rider I can tell,
But I swear I'll shoot the stranger, I don't care if he's a Ranger,
Or a demon sent from hell.
As the rider approached the edge of the river,
I could tell that he was wrapped up in a shroud,
But then her voice skipped across the water,
And the prideful spirit within me bowed.
And you should have seen her, as pretty as I left her.
And the air smelled bloody: it was the smell of vengeance.
She did frown and she challenged me to draw down.
She said that I owed her for the blood that had flowed
Upon her wedding gown.
I felt fear, for I had killed my brother dear,
And she had found him dead on the day they were to wed
In a pool of blood and tears.