The Good The Bad And The Ugly

A Gunfighter Ballad

His spurs were jingling
When he boldly pushed through the door
He was tall and quick
Stalkin’ across the sawdust floor
Old leather chaps
Were bound upon his legs,
His gun was hanging low
It was like a tornado
Through the old town about to blow

He said his name was Killer Sam
And don’t berate his name
He could shoot as quick he said
As any in the game
His eyes were blue and clear
When he looked into my face
If there was any yella there
I saw not a trace

He drank his whiskey slow
And he watched the swinging door
He spoke no more words
He didn’t seem to see us anymore
We all could feel
A war was bound to start
If anyone came in
It was like a tornado
Through the town ready to blow

“At last it’s time” said Killer Sam
He walked back to the door
Outside we heard a hoof beat
The clock read ten to four
He walked out in the street
And we heard a voice repeat
“I warned you countless times
You’ll die when next we meet”

We crowded at the window
Some watched it through the swinging door
The stranger sauntered
Twenty paces perhaps a few steps more
His sombrero
Kept his eyes in shadow
We heard him whistling low
It was like a tornado
Through the town starting to blow

“Fill your hand” he told Killer Sam
He leaned into the breeze
Well Killer Sam won the draw
And he did that with ease
His gun it loudly barked
And the stranger shot his round
Then Sam turned to us
He fell dead on the ground

His spurs were jingling
Atop the coffin rolling to Boot Hill
He was lowered quick
And some shovels tossed in the fill
A wooden cross
Got pounded in the ground
The wind it whistled cold
It was like a tornado
Had come and then ceased to blow

He’d said his name was Killer Sam
And don’t berate his name
He could shoot as quick he said
As any in the game
His eyes were blue and clear
When he looked into my face
If there was any yella there
I saw not a trace

Dunno if this one was in a Western, but it ought've been.

EL PASO
(written and performed by Marty Robbins)
from the 1959 Columbia LP, GUNFIGHTER BALLADS & TRAIL SONGS, CL 1349

Out in the West Texas town of El Paso
I fell in love with a Mexican girl
Nighttime would find me in Rosa's cantina
Music would play and Feleena would whirl

Blacker than night were the eyes of Feleena
Wicked and evil while casting her spell
My love was deep for this Mexican maiden
I was in love, but in vain I could tell

One night a wild young cowboy came in
Wild as the West Texas wind
Dashing and daring, a drink he was sharing
With wicked Feleena, the girl that I loved

So in anger
I challenged his right for the love of this maiden
Down went his hand for the gun that he wore
My challenge was answered in less than a heartbeat
The handsome young stranger lay dead on the floor

Just for a moment I stood there in silence
Shocked by the foul, evil deed I had done
Many thoughts raced through my mind as I stood there
I had but one chance and that was to run

Out through the back door of Rosa's I ran
Out where the horses were tied
I caught a good one, it looked like it could run
Up on its back and away I did ride

Just as fast as
I could from the West Texas town of El Paso
Out to the badlands of New Mexico

Back in El Paso my life would be worthless
Everything's gone in life, nothing is left
It's been so long since I've seen the young maiden
My love is stronger than my fear of death

I saddle up and away I did go
Riding alone in the dark
Maybe tomorrow a bullet will find me
Tonight nothing's worse than this pain in my heart

And at last here
I am on the hill overlooking El Paso
I can see Rosa's cantina below
My love is strong and it pushes me onward
Down off the hill to Feleena I go

Off to my right I see five mounted cowboys
Off to my left are a dozen and more
Shouting and shooting I can't let them catch me
I have to make it to Rosa's back door

Something is dreadfully wrong for I feel
A deep burning pain in my side
Though I am trying to stay in the saddle
I'm getting weary, unable to ride

But my love for
Feleena is strong, and I rise where I've fallen
Though I am weary I can't stop to rest
I see the white puff of smoke from the rifle
I feel the bullet go deep in my chest

From out of nowhere Feleena has found me
Kissing my cheek as she kneels by my side
Cradled by two loving arms that I'll die for
One little kiss and Feleena, goodbye

Stampede

All across this wicked land
Shadows crawling from the sun
No drop of water for our tongues
Half crazy steers a bawling

Cattle drive stumbling through the draw
Buzzards circling way down low
“If you’re going to die just let us know
We’ll catch you as you’re falling”

And a band of reckless riders
Shouting as they top the rim
Hands filled with iron and faces grim
“We’ll have that herd you cowboys”

Curley reaches for his iron
A round of bullets drops him down
Herd gets spooked by the thunderous sound
“It’s the Jamboree, you cowboys”

All across this wicked land
Nothing like a cow stampede
You can follow You can’t lead
We turn our hearts to Texas

All across this wicked land
As the rustlers chase the herd
We chase the mockingbird
All the way home to Texas

So ride the wind back to Texas, boys
On the scent of gun smoke & blood.
Ride the wind back to Texas,
Through the lead rain & the mud.
Ride it hard back to Texas

The Outlaw



I ride
real slow
all the way down
to Mexico
watching buzzards
circling the sky
dreaming of women
with beautiful eyes

I know
she will be
somewhere in a mangrove
waiting for me
I will give her my life
lay down my gun
work the land
and raise a son





Endymion 2008




mangrove action project

http://www.mangroveactionproject.org/issues/tourism/yucatan-peninsula-mexico

I just watched this tonight - blimey - did women wear their jeans tight in those days or what??

great film. REALLY great music score - couldn't believe it.

oh yeah and it's got Bill Travers in it too

i like

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SRETuPFUzEg

Jesse James

My son added those final lines. I only wrote the rest of it.

hey, Edgar - it's a fine piece of work. it must be good to have someone who understands your stuff, to share it with. Got any more?

I haven't written much western stuff. I may give it another try.

Hey Edgar - I'd like to read it, so i hope you do write more.

I feel a bit like an interloper writing about the wild west, when i've never actually visited your beautiful country - but i have my reasons for being drawn to that era and place (as well as watching a hell of a lot of westerns and reading some Zane Grey) It's more about symbolism with me maybe. Although i haven't quite figured it. I 'm sure it has something to do with men dealing with feelings of revenge

Here's something i wrote that fits with that. It's just a bit of rhyming - but still,
i'll leave it here

thanks for contributing, Edgar


The Reprobate



My daddy was a gunslinger
mean as any bear
He had a set of gold teeth
and a wide, c-razy stare
He often practised shooting
glass bottles off a wall
He blew them all to pieces
with no problem at all

Sometimes he took me hunting
and we'd shoot ourselves a deer
We'd camp out in the forest
by a stream that ran so clear
and he would tell me stories
about the olden days
I heard his cold confession
and I understood his shame

One day when we were walking
across a street in town
a man stepped from the shadows
and shot my daddy down
He didn't give a warning
but looked at me and said,

"You best go tell your mother
that the reprobate is dead."

I think about him sometimes
and I take out daddy's guns
I click back both the hammers
with the balls of my thumbs
I aim them at the mirror
pull daddy's face and say,

"You can tell 'em all in hell
how you just got blown away."




Endymion 2008

Have you seen Man Called Horse? A Britisher taken captive by the Indian natives. He is appointed a woman's beast of burden, in the early days, but -
Richard Harriss

I believe i have (when i was a kid)- but i should get hold of it and watch it again.

When i first saw Dances with Wolves it made me think of that film, but i can't really remember it,

Shit, Edgar - i'm going to order it RIGHT NOW

thanks
e

ps have you seen Treasure of the Sierra Madre (1948) and The Wild Bunch (1969) and Young Guns (1988) -
God, i wore out a video of Young Guns (can anyone believe that film is 20 years old!) - always was interested in William Bonney.

the first time i looked at his wanted poster i realised i was about the same age as him in that photograph (at school)- and i couldn't help wondering what it would feel like to know people were coming after you - out there planning to kill you. For money.

I'm sure he was a ruthless killer - but, he was a kid even so

I have saw, rather I seen, them all and loved them all.

"The Reprobate"...brilliant

edgar, mcee fya thanks! - sorry to miss you.

If you wondered what that silence is - it's everyone busy writing out their stories, poems and all sorts of other pieces of work about the wild west.
Not just what its like to live there or to have descended from the likes of Billy The Kid, but how it has deeply touched and left an impression on many who grew up on westerns wherever they live - even Siberia.

They've been at it for a few days now, so I'm getting pretty excited wondering what they're going to come up with - what journey I may be taken on. If you listen really hard, you can hear the faint murmur of keyboards being tapped all over the world (but especially in America), with the occasional slurp as someone gulps down their coffee in a haste to get back to it.

I envision rocky mountains, vast open plains… cowboys herding cattle across a river. Rolling wagons, storm clouds…oh yeah, I love those stories. How about women out west, the life of the native Indian, poems about wild horses or buffalo- or a haiku about a cactus flower -will we get any of those?
It could be anything, from comedy to tragedy, the diary of an undertaker, horse-breaker or cheese-maker. Who knows? The anticipation is killing me.

Any time now…

who's got popcorn?

…budge up

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dWnoV5M2oKI

Johnny Cash on John Wesley Hardin