Boards
There was a cowboy
I knew in south Texas,
His face was burnt deep by the sun,
Part history, part sage, part mesquit,
He was there when Poncho Villa was young.
And he'd tell you a tale of the old days,
When the country was wild all around,
Sit out under the stars of the Milky Way,
And listen while the coyotes howl.
And they go...