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Cowboy Poetry and Western Verse
Tom Horn
Steve Dickson
To ride the range all day
Running cattle did not pay
You searched more for a thrill
Then you found it in the kill
Scouted for Uncle Sam
Sought those who were on the lam
Apache tongue you know
Helped take down Geronimo
Pinkertons hired you then
Paid you well to hunt for men
You seemed to lust for blood
Came later in a flood
You done it all old son
Made a living by the gun
Chased outlaws on the trail
Tracked hard men and did not fail
Wyoming was your home
Far from there you did not roam
Big ranchers ruled the land
Foreign money in their hand
Homesteaders came to stay
Free land called those far away
Land barons paid your bills
You shot settlers from the hills
You warned them to clear out
If they stayed there was no doubt
That soon they would be dead
From ambush filled with hot lead
Winchester ‘94
Did your dirty work and more
They say you had no heart
Was it that way from the start?
Then came that fateful day
A lad shot from far away
The best shot that you made
And for that your life was paid
A marshal lured you in
He then filled you full of gin
You bragged about the way
The Nickell boy died that day
They hung you out to dry
Ranchers would not testify
The jury was not moved
Though your guilt could not be proved
The locals were dismayed
An example must be made
The old ways would not stand
1900 was at hand
You hung there in ‘03
From a gallows not a tree
You calmly met your fate
As Julian made you wait
Your story’s been retold
Of a man who broke the mold
Of an outlaw out for pay
Or a good man gone astray
We all know in the end
There are laws we should not bend
The Lord don’t hold a grudge
Only He could be your judge
Steve Dickson 2012
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