Ballads of the True west

Liner Notes

Four years ago, Columbia Records album producer Don Law said to me, "John, think about making an album of Western songs." I thought about it, and Don knew I would attempt it when I was ready. Later, as a guest in my house, he brought me two books on Western lore. But nothing was mentioned about a Western album. Instead, we talked about fishing.

Reading the books Don Law left me, I became fascinated by true tales of the West. I bought up every issue of "True West," a successful magazine published in Texas and sold coast to coast. (Later, I learned that the magazine is read and swapped around by servicemen overseas, and that some early issues are worth up to ten dollars a piece.)

Then, while I was making a personal appearance in Austin, Texas, Joe Austell Small, publisher of Western Publications, said to me, "John Cash, you'd be a good feller to ride the river with." He invited me to his offices where he publishes "True West," "Frontier Times" and "Old West." I saw his Remington and Russell paintings, and later, over a Mexican-style buffet, we got excited about the record album I was planning called THE TRUE WEST. Joe Small rode the river with me, and we became the best of friends. I hope we still are after he hears it; he sweated blood along with me to help me make it.

A few months ago, Don Law called me. "Johnny, old boy, aren't we about ready to do that Western album?" I was afraid he'd ask that. I said "Yes," then locked myself in my room full of books and took out pen and paper to begin sketching my plans for the songs and stories that would go into THE TRUE WEST.

The books-by John Lomax, Carl Sandburg, Botkin, Dobie and all the rest-were confusing. I closed the books and decided to call Tex Ritter to ask if he would come and help me and let me hear his side of it all. Mr. Ritter drove to my home and sat with me three hours with a tape recorder running and we went over the possibilities of the album. We became so involved in going over some three hundred Western songs that we developed an intense, "true West" attitude toward it all. So far as songs are concerned, there was only room for about twenty, at the most, on the two records-and that would only just about touch the forty or fifty years that I was to sing about.

But here, at least, is a part of it. Thanks to Joe Small and to Tex Ritter, a man whom I respect and am so very much indebted to for the time he gave me; to Peter LaFarge, my Indian friend who had almost every bone broken in his rodeo days; to "Ramblin' " Jack Elliott, who came to Nashville and advised me when I "didn't know gee from haw"; to Gene Ferguson, of Columbia Records, who quietly sat still and pulled for me; to the Tennessee Three; to the Nashville Symphony Orchestra; to the Carter Family; to the Statler Brothers; to Bob Johnson, who plays 2,001-year-old folk songs because he simply likes them; to Tom Morgan of Hollywood who sat up all night writing violin arrangements for some of these songs.

But thanks mainly to album producers Don Law and Frank Jones who worked seven nights, all night long, to help capture the sound of the West wind. There are also many others I haven't space to thank here.

Here is a tick of "that" time, just a glimpse beyond the movies and television, back to when a few tales could show us THE TRUE WEST.

We aren't sorry for the modern sounds and modern arrangements on classics like I Ride an Old Paint or The Streets of Laredo; after all, they were meant to be heard on twentieth. century record players and transistor radios! For today that same West wind is blowing, although buckboards and saddles are lying out there turning to dust or crumbling from dry rot. How did I get ready for this album? I followed trails in my Jeep and on foot, and I slept under mesquite bushes and in gullies. I heard the timber wolves, looked for golden nuggets in old creek beds, sat for hours beneath a manzanita bush in an ancient Indian burial ground, breathed the West wind and heard the tales it tells only to those who listen. I replaced a wooden grave marker of some man in the Arizona who "never made it." I walked across alkali flats where others had walked before me, but hadn't made it. I ate mesquite beans and squeezed the water from a barrel cactus. I was saved once by a forest ranger, Lying flat on my face, starving. I learned to throw a bowie knife and kill a jack rabbit at forty yards, not for the sport but because I was hungry. I learned of the true West the hard way-a la 1965.

Yes, it was an obsession, but I learned the ways of the West. It's still there, and even though the people I sing about are gone, I saw something of what their life was like. Most of it I enjoyed. Some of it was mean as hell. But it's the same West: it's wild and hot and unbelievable till you try it on foot. It was the true West.

Here are a few words about some of the narrations and songs, including some definitions of cowboy lingo.

Hiawatha's Vision. This was inspired by Longfellow's "The Song of Hiawatha," in particular, the part called "The White Man's Foot."

The Road to Kaintuck. This is about one of the first main roads leading West that was blazed by Daniel Boone. Others were the Dug Road, the Old Reedy Creek Road, the Road Down Troublesome. The Road to Moccasin Gap runs along Clinch Mountain, through Big Moccasin Gap, near Gate City, Tennessee.

The Shifting, Whispering Sands, Part I. This one has special meaning for me. I often go to an old, abandoned ranch near Maricopa, California, in my 1946 Jeep. No electricity, no running water, no phone. I sleep in a little shack heated by a wood-burning stove and use candles for light. There are rabbits, deer, badgers, coyotes, squirrels and, once in a while, a bear. I know the 480 acres like the back of my hand. I've spent hours walking around the original homesteaders' homesites. The buildings are long fallen and crumbling into dust. I found a buckboard that fell apart when I tried to move it. There's a windmill that sways in the wind. I sat under a manzanita bush one hot day with pen and paper, all set for a song inspiration. I looked around and discovered I was in an Indian burial ground. I sat for three hours, then wrote: "Under the manzanita tree-sits a pencil, a piece of paper and me." To my knowledge, no one else knows of this Indian graveyard-and I won't show you where it is. (This is the ranch, incidentally, where Frank Bez photographed the album's cover picture.) Out there at night, the stars seem twice as bright as anywhere else. You have to "gaze on high at the heavens, where you're hoping you'll be going when you die."

The Ballad of Boot Hill. I walked through Tombstone, Arizona's Boot Hill Cemetery eight years ago for the first time The view from Boot Hill across the valleys is beautiful-it's hard to believe that the place saw so much killing. One grave marker reads simply "Hung By Mistake-1882."

I Ride an Old Paint. Definitions you might find helpful: Montan=Montana; Hooley-ann=a roping term for a fast loop over the horse's head; Coulee=a ravine, a creek bed; Draw=a shallow drain for rainfall, among other meanings; Dogie=a maverick's scrubby calf; another meaning, for some cowboys, is laced shoes.

Hardin Wouldn't Run. I wrote this after reading the autobiography John Wesley Hardin wrote just before he was killed. Mr. Goddard Lieberson, President of Columbia Records, asked me to write something for "The Badmen," a volume in the Columbia Records Legacy Collection he produced not long ago. I was late getting the song in, so we saved it for this album.

John Wesley Hardin, a desperado, married Jane Bowen; the two were on a train headed for Pensacola when Hardin was arrested. He was imprisoned at Huntsville, Texas, for fifteen years. Jane waited faithfully but died just a few months before her husband's pardon. In prison, Hardin studied law and opened a law office in El Paso soon after his pardon. Clients were few. Juarez, Mexico, and its women were handy, and booze was plentiful. John Selman, a local constable, shot Hardin in a saloon after Hardin's Mexican sweetheart had pistol-whipped Selman's son.

Here are some more definitions that will help you understand the song better: Plow-handle hand=the drawing hand; plow-handle is a nickname for the shape of the stock on the Colt single-action Army revolver. (Col. Samuel Colt invented the revolver; his first one was a five-shooter, not a six. He said he got the idea from watching the paddle wheel of the ship he was going to India on in 1835.) Skin his gun=a fast draw; top hand=the boss or number-one man, an expert; goose hair=feather bed; redeye=whiskey.

Mister Garfield. This song was brought to me by folk singer Jack Elliott. I wrote most of the song's dialogue. It is eighty years old and to my knowledge has never been recorded. Jack recorded "The Ballad of Charles Guiteau," about the man who shot President Garfield.

The Streets of Laredo. A British tune, the original is sup. posed to be about a man who died of syphilis in a London hospital. The second and third verses here (author unknown) are from "Cowboy Songs" by John Lomax, published in 1910. Johnny Reb. The Civil War was directly or indirectly the cause of thousands upon thousands going West. A surprising fact I uncovered was that both the Northern and the Southern armies used prisoners-of war to fight Indians. Many more were killed. Speaking of death in the West, it's a proven fact that more men died of rattlesnake bite than of bullets. (Don't tell the movie producers.)

A Letter From Home. I asked Mother Maybelle Carter one night to write me a Western song for this album. The next morning she gave me this. Since the Bible on the plains was as uncommon as a letter from home, many cowboys called it that.

Bury Me Not on the Lone Prairie. In those days, there simply wasn't a way to transport a dead man across hundreds of miles of open country. Anyway, after he died, maybe he didn't mind being buried on the lone prairie.

Sam Hall. I first heard this sung by Tex Ritter. Some people say that the morning Sam Hall was to be hanged, a friend slipped him a bottle. He staggered up the gallows, cursing everyone in the crowd.

Green Grow the Lilacs. Done best in our r time by Tex Ritter, this song was written in 1848 by a Texas soldier during the strife with our Mexican neighbors.

Top Of Page

Lyrics

1.
HIAWATHA'S VISION
(Johnny Cash)
� � '65 Anne Rachel Music, ASCAP / Song Of Cash Music, ASCAP �

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
**********

2.
ROAD TO KAINTUCK
(June Carter)
� � '65 Copper Creek Music, BMI �

We're goin' west to Kaintuck down the road to Moccasin Gap
Down the wilderness road
The Dug Road the old Reedy Creek Road
The Road down Troublesome Road through Moccasin Gap

There was a time when goin' way out west meant goin' to Kaintuck
The dark and bloody ground as Indians called it
Indians wars were ragin' and men like Daniel Boone and Michael Stoner
Came down the wilderness road like countless families did
Through a place in south West Virginia called Big Moccasin Gap
It's a hot day in '73 and this is my wife and my kids with me
Daniel Boone lost his boy the other day young Jim Boone is dead twenty miles away
The wagons turn and went back home even Daniel couldn't make it alone
I guess prob'ly Daniel could but he stopped awhile in castle wood
(If you love your wife and love your baby man
Turn your wagons back as soon as you can
Ev'ry Injun in these hills has gone berserk you never gonna make it to Kaintuck)
Ah I bet I'm gonna make it to Kaintuck

We're goin' west to Kaintuck...
The Dug Road the old Reedy Creek Road
The Road down Troublesome Road through Moccasin Gap
**********

3.
SHIFTING WHISPERING SANDS PART 1
(Jack V.C. Gilbert - Mary Margaret Hadler)
� � '50 Acuff-Rose Music, BMI �

I discovered the valley of the shifting whispering sands
While prospecting a western a western State
I saw the silent windmills the crumbling water tanks
The bones of the cattle picked clean by buzzards bleached by the desert sun
I stumbled over a crumbling buckboard nearly covered by the sand
And stopping to rest I heard a tinkling whispering sound
And suddenly realized that even though the wind was quiet the sand did not lie still
I seemed to be surrounded by a mystery so heavy and oppresive
I could scarcely breathe
For weeks I wandered aimlessly in the valley seeking answers to the many qustetions
That raced through my mind
Where was everyone why the white bones the dry wells the barren valley
Where people must have lived and died
I sat down and buried my face in my hands and resting
I learned the secret of the shifting whispering sands
How I managed to escape from the valley I don't know
But now to pay my debt for being saved
I must tell you what I learned out on the desert so many years ago

(When the day is hardly quiet and the breeze seems not to blow
One would think the sand was resting but you'll find this is not so
It is whispering softly whispering as it slowly moves along
And for those who stop and listen it will sing this mournful song
Oh sidewinders and the horn toe on the thorny chaparral
In the sunny days and moonlight nights the lonely coyotes yell)
How the stars seem they could touch you as you lay and gaze on high
At the heavens where you're hoping you'll be going when you die
**********

4.
NARRATION 1
(Johnny Cash)
� � '65 Song Of Cash Music, ASCAP �

One day on 1881 the Tombstone Epitaph
A booming newspaper in a booming silver mining town
Screamed out the headlines about a gunfight at the OK Corral right downtown
The headlines read Murder In The Streets Of Tombstone
Well that wasn't such hot news but more stark and spine chilling
Than that was a sight on the boardwalk in front of the Epitaph building
Neatly laid out in beautiful caskets were the bodies of Tom McLowery
Frank McLowery and young Billy Clanton twenty eight years old
A witness at the trial later said that he saw Doc Holliday
Blast away with a nickel plated pistol
And Billy Clanton screamed don't shoot me I don't wanna fight
Today there's no more silver mining in Tombstone
But up there on Boot Hill you can see where the graves of the men are
The ones who fought over or because of that big silver strike that created Tombstone
**********
5.
BALLAD OF BOOT HILL
(Carl Perkins)
� � '59 Unichappell Music, BMI �

Here lies less more four slugs from a forty-four no less no more

Out in Arizona just south of Tucson
Where tumbleweeds tumble in search of a home
There's a town they call Tombstone where the brave never cry
They live by a sixgun by a sixgun they die

It's been a long time now since the town was a boom
The jailhouse is empty so's the Palace Saloon
Just one look will tell you that this town was real
A secluded old dirt road leads up to Boot Hill

Walk up to the fence there and look at the view
That's where they were hanging eighteen eighty two
It's easy to see where the brave men have died
Rope marks on the oak tree are now petrified

At night when the moon shines so far away
It gets mighty lonesome lookin' down on their graves
There lies Billy Clanton never wanted to kill
But he's there with the guilty way up on Boot Hill (Boot Hill)
**********

6.
I RIDE AN OLD PAINT
(arr. Johnny Cash)
� � '56 Anne Rachel Music, ASCAP / Song Of Cash Music, ASCAP �

I ride an old paint I lead an old Dan
I'm off to Montan' for to throw the hooley ann
They feed in the coulees they water in the draw
Their tails're all matted their backs're all raw
Ride around little dogies ride around slow
The fiery and snuffy are raring to go
[ strings ]
Well Johns had two daughters and the song
One went to Denver the other went wrong
His young wife died in a poolroom fight
But he tries to keep singing from morning till night
Ride around little dogies ride around slow
The fiery and snuffy are raring to go
[ strings ]
When I die take my saddle from the wall
Strap it my pony lead him out of the stall
Throw my bones on his back turn our faces tothe west
And we'll ride the prairie that we love the best
Ride around little dogies ride around slow
The fiery and snuffy are raring to go
**********

7.
NARRATION 2
(Johnny Cash)
� � '65 Song Of Cash Music, ASCAP �

John Wesley Hardin lost his roll shootin' dice in the Jim Saloon in El Paso
One night back in '85
For a while he sat there and watched the game broodin' mad
Then he drew a pistol and said gimme my money back
And the timid soul handlin' the cash for the house said
Take it all Mr Hardin it belongs to you
Hardin got arrested for it the next day
But nobody thought to ask him to return the money
He did get told not to play that way anymore
**********

8.
HARDIN WOULDN'T RUN
(Johnny Cash)
� � '62 Anne Rachel Music, ASCAP / Song Of Cash Music, ASCAP �

I know a man whose plow handle hand is quicker than a light
Wes Hardin is his name they say he travels in the night
For he might have to kill or walk around a fight
And if you ever saw Wes Hardin draw you know he can skin his gun
He won't say how many tried and died
Up against the top hand up against the wrong man cause Hardin' wouldn't run
He rode in like a Texas wind took the eastbound train
Goin' goin' with Jane Bowen till the law men caught up
So long Janie chin up I'll be back again
Off he went to Huntsville Prison so long Janie he cried
Fifteen years she waited till her heart broke and she died
And she left that bad land to wait up in the sky
Free at last the payin' past for all the wrong he did
First free air they let him breathe since he was a kid
So let him come and let him go and let him deal and bid
Near the border in El Paso Lawyer reads the sign
You won't find him there for business every day at nine
For business is real bad one client's all he's had in quite a long long time
Then sheriff Selman's boy broke in to Wes's woman's place
Up she jumped and pistol whipped him kicked him in the face
And John Selman demands revenge for this disgrace
You could see every night by candlelight in Hardin's favorite bar
She'd be hanging on his arm and very late they'd leave there
Headed for the Goose Hair glad it wasn't far
Right through the swinging doors John Selman came with a blazin' gun
Wes Hardin chug-a-luggin' red eye got him in the back of the head
John Wesley Hardin fell dead Hardin wouldn't run
**********

9.
NARRATION 3
(Johnny Cash)
� � '65 Song Of Cash Music, ASCAP �

About the time that Tombstone Arizona was at its rip roaring wild wooliest
President James Garfield was shot in broad daylight at a railway depot back east
Someone was heard to remark later I wonder if they'll blame that on Jesse James too
Well if they did blame it on Jesse James they didn't for very long
Because they soon learned that it was Charlie Guiteau
That shot down President Garfield
**********

10.
MR. GARFIELD
(Jack Elliott)
� � '65 House Of Cash, BMI / Unichappell Music, BMI �

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)
**********

11.
STREETS OF LAREDO
(arr. Johnny Cash)
� � '56 Anne Rachel Music, ASCAP / Song Of Cash Music, ASCAP �

As I walked out on the streets of Laredo
As I walked out on Laredo one day
I spied a young cowboy all wrapped in white linen
All wrapped in white linen as cold as the clay

Beat the drum slowly and play the fife lowly
Play the dead march as you carry me along
Take me to the green valley lay the sod o'er me
For I'm a young cowboy and I know I've done wrong

Then go write a letter and send it to my grey haired mother
And please send the same to my sister so dear
But please not one word of all this would you mention
When other should ask for my story to hear

There is another more dear than a sister
She'll bitterly weep when she hears that I'm gone
And if some other man every wins her affection
Don't mention my name and my name will pass on

Just beat the drum slowly...

Get six jolly cowboys to carry my coffin
Get six pretty maidens to sing me a song
Put bunches of roses all over my coffin
Roses to deaden the clods when they fall

We beat the drum slowly played the fife lowly
We bitterly wept as we bore him along
Down in the green valley we laid this sod o'er him
Just the young cowboy who surely gone wrong
**********

12.
NARRATION 4
(Johnny Cash)
� � '65 Song Of Cash Music, ASCAP �

Just like Mr Greeley suggested back in the 1860's many young men went West
But they went with their pistols cocked
It seemed the only way to escape the horrors of war
But sometimes the horrors were even worse in the West
Back on the front the losers Johnny Reb they called him fought all the way
Okay Johnny Reb you can sound down the flag now it's all over
**********

13.
JOHNNY REB
(Merle Kilgore)
� � '60 Fort Knox Music, BMI / Shelby Singleton Music, BMI /
Trio Music, BMI / Cedarwdood Publishing, BMI �

Yeah you fought all the way Johnny Reb Johnny Reb
You fought all the way Johnny Reb

I saw you a marchin' with Robert E Lee
You held your head high tryin' to win the victory
You fought for you folks but you didn't die in vain
And even though you lost they speak highly of your name

You fought all the way...

I heard your teeth chatter from the cold outside
Saw the bullets open up the wounds in your side
Saw the young boys when they began to fall
There were tears in your eyes but you couldn't help at all

You fought all the way...

I saw General Lee raise a sabre in his hand
Heard the cannons roar as you made your last stand
You marched into battle with the Grey and the Red
When the smoke cleared away it took days to count the dead

Cause you fought all the way...

And when President Lincoln heard the news of your fall
Everyone said there'd be a victory ball
But he asked the band if they would play dixie
For you Johnny Reb and for what you believed

Cause you fought all the way...
Yeah you fought all the way...
**********

14.
LETTER FROM HOME
(Maybelle Carter - Dixie Dean)
� � '65 Copper Creek Music, BMI �

A cowpoke rode in one hot dusty day to a store down in old San Antone
He stood at the window and I heard him say do I have a letter from home
The postmaster looked through the mail that had come
Then smilingly shook his grey head
The cowboke looked sadly a moment at him and these are the words that he said

No letter from home no letter from home there's never a letter from home
(No message from mother and none from the other) there's never a letter from home
[ banjo ]
That night he was shot on the wrong side of town no more of those plains will he roam
I reached for my Bible and gave it to him and said son here's your letter from home
If only I had just a little more time to read it the young cowpoke said
I can't take it with me and I must go on then he died with his letter unread

The letter from home the letter from home no time for the letter from home
(The cowboy laid dead with his letter unread) too late for the letter from home
**********

15.
BURY ME NOT ON THE LONE PRAIRIE
(arr. Johnny Cash)
� � '59 House Of Cash, BMI �

Oh bury me not on the lone prairie these words came low and mournfully
From the pallid lips of a youth who lay on the bloody ground at the close of day

Oh bury me not and his voice failed there but we took no heed to his dying prayer
In a narrow grave just six by three we burried him there on the lone prairie
[ ac.guitar ]
Oh bury me not on the lone prairie where the coyotes howl and the wind blows free
Where there's not a soul that will care for me oh bury me not on the lone prairie
**********

16.
MEAN AS HELL
(Johnny Cash)
� � '65 Anne Rachel Music, ASCAP / Song Of Cash Music, ASCAP �

The devil in hell we're told was chained a thousand years he there remained
He neither complain nor did he groan but was determined to start a hell of his own
Where he could torment the souls of men without being chained in a prison pen
So he asked the Lord if he had on hand anything left when he made this land
The Lord said yes there's a plenty of hand but if I left it down by the Rio Grande
The fact is ol' boy the stuff is so poor
I don't think you could use it as the hell anymore
But the devil went down to look at the truck
And said if he took it as a gift he was stuck
For after lookin' that over carefully and well he said this place is too dry for hell
But in order to get it off his hand the Lord promised the devil to water the land
So trade was closed and deed was given and the Lord went back to his home in heaven
And the devil said now I got all what's needed to make it good hell and he secceeded
He began by putting thorns all over the trees
He mixed up the sand with millions of fleas
He scattered tarantulas along the road put thorns on cactus and horns on toad
Lenghtened the horns of the Texas steer put an addition to the rabbits ear
Put a little devil in the bronco steed and poisoned the feet of the centipede
The rattlesnake bites you the scorpion stings
The mosquito delights you with his buzzing wings
The sunburst are there and so the ants
And if you sit down you'll need have soles on your pants
The wild boar rooms on a black chapparral it's a hell of a place that he has for hell
The heat in the summers are hundred and ten too hot for the devil too hot for men
The red pepper grows upon the banks of the brook
The Mexican use it in all that he cook
Just dine it with one of 'em and you're bound to shout
I've hell on the inside as well as it out
My hands are calloused July to July I use a Big Dipper to navigate by
Fight off the wolves to drink from my well so I have to be mean as hell
A sheep herder came and put up the fence
I saw him one day but I ain't seen him since
But if you need a mutton we got mutton to sell
We're cowpunchers and we're mean as hell
Neighter me nor my pony's got a pedigree but he takes me where I'm wantin' to be
I'll ride him to death and when he is fell I'll get me another one mean as hell
I shot me a calf and I cut off her head
Cause the boys in the bunkhouse are waitin' to be fed
They rise in chime with the five thirty bell
And the best one of any of 'em is mean as hell
**********

17.
SAM HALL
(Tex Ritter)
� � '35 Vidor Publications, BMI �

Alright everyone of you can just kiss my hide ha ha ha ha
Well my name it is Sam Hall it is Sam Hall
Yes my name it is Sam Hall it is Sam Hall
My name it is Sam Hall and I hate you one and all
Yeah I hate you one and all till I blame ye eyes

I killed a man they said so they said killed a man they said so they said
Killed the man they said and I smashed in his head
And I left him a layin' dead well darn his hide
A swingin' I must go I must go a swingin' I must go I must go
Swingin' I must go while you critters down below
Yell up Sam I told you so well blast your hide
I saw Molly in the crowd in the crowd I seen Molly in the crowd in the crowd
There was Molly in the crowd and I hollered right out loud
Hey there Molly ain't you pride well damn your eyes

My name it is Sam Hall...

Then the sheriff he come too he come too
Yeah the sheriff he come too he come too
Oh the sheriff he come too he said well how are you
And I said well sheriff how are you darn your hide

Cause my name it is Sam Hall...

My name is Samuel Samuel Samuel my name is Samuel Samuel
Yeah my name is Samuel and I'll see you all in the hell
My name is Samuel blast your eye
My name is Samuel Hall blast your eyes blame ye hide darn ye eyes
**********

18.
25 MINUTES TO GO
(Shel Silverstein)
� � '62 Hollis Music, BMI �

Well they're buildin' a gallows outside my cell I've got 25 minutes to go
And the whole town's waitin' just to hear me yell I got 24 minutes to go
Well they gave me some beans for my last meal I got 23 minutes to go
But nobody ask me how I feel I got 22 minutes to go
Well I sent for the Governor and the whole darned bunch with 21 minutes to go
And I sent for the Mayor but he's out to lunch I got 20 more minutes to go
Then the sheriff said boy I'm gonna watch you die got 19 minutes to go
So I laughed in his face and I spit in his eye got 18 minutes to go
Now here comes the preacher for to save my soul with 13 minutes to go
And he's talking bout burning but I'm so cold I got 12 more minutes to go
Now they're testin' a trap and it chills my spine with 11 more minutes to go
And the trap and the rope oh they work just fine got 10 more minutes to go
Well I'm waitin' for the pardon that'll set me free with 9 more minutes to go
But this is for real so forget about me got 8 more minutes to go
With my feet on the trap and my head in the noose got 5 more minutes to go
Won't somebody come and cut me loose got 4 more minutes to go
I can see the mountains I can see the sky 3 more minutes to go
And it's too darned pretty for a man over die I got 2 more minutes to go
I can see the buzzards I can hear the crows 1 more minute to go
And now I'm swingin' and here I go-o-o-o
**********

19.
BLIZZARD
(Harlan Howard)
� � '61 Tree Publishing, BMI / Red River Songs, BMI �

There's a blizzard comin' on and I'm wishin' I was home
For my pony's lame and he can't hardly stand
Lord my hands feel like they're froze and there's a numbness in my toes
But it's only seven miles to Mary Anne it's only seven miles to Mary Anne

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 northern sigh if we don't get home we'll die
But it's only five more miles to Mary Anne it's only five more miles to Mary Anne

That wind's howlin' and it seems mighty like a woman's screams
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 Mary Anne it's only three more miles to Mary Anne
[ piano ]
Come on Dan get up your ornery 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 awhile and rest
For it's still another mile to Mary Anne it's still another mile to Mary Anne

Late that night the storm was gone and they found him there at dawn
He made it but he couldn't leave ol' Dan
Yes they found him on the plains his hands froze into the reins
He was just a hundred yards from Mary Anne
He was just a hundred yards from Mary Anne
**********

20.
NARRATION 5
(Johnny Cash)
� � '65 Song Of Cash Music, ASCAP �

You know women had it tough too movin' West
The broad prairies the thirst the hunger there were just about too much to believe
Especially for for a young lady born and bred back East
Yet with all the troubles and the seemingly endless miles
Across the great wastes the plains the deserts
Someone saw fit to throw a little human interest a little humor
On a long hard almost unbelievable trip
Made by two young lovers sweet Betsy and Ike from Pike County Missouri
**********

21.
SWEET BETSY FROM PIKE
(Jimmie Driftwood)
� � '55 Warden Music, BMI �

Now don't you remember sweet Betsy from Pike
Who crossed the big mountains with her lover Ike
Two yoke of oxen a big yeller dog a tall Shanghai rooster and one spottled hog
One evenin' quite early they camped on the plat
Down by the road on a green shady flat
Where Betsy got tired and lay down to repose
And Ike he just gazed on his Pike County rose
[ banjo ]
Well they soon reached the desert where Betsy gave out
Down in the sand she lay rollin' about
While Ike in great tears looked on in surprise
He said Betsy get up you'll get sand in your eyes
Well the Shanghai ran off and the cattle all died
The last piece of bacon that mornin' was fried
Ike he got discouraged and Betsy got mad
The dog wagged his tail and looked wonderfully sad
[ harmonica ]
Well a miner said Betsy will you dance with me
I will now old Hoss if you don't make too free
But don't dance me hard do you want to know why
Doggone you I'm chocked full of strong alkali
Ike and sweet Betsy got married of course
But Ike gettin' jealous obtained the divorce
Betsy well satisfied said with a shout
Goodbye you big lummox I'm glad you backed out
**********

22.
GREEN GROW THE LILACS
(arr. Johnny Cash)
� � '52 House Of Cash, BMI �

I used to have a sweetheart but now I've got none
Since she's gone and left me I care not for one
Since she's gone and left me contended I'll be
For she loves another one better than me

Green grow the lilacs all sparkling with you
I'm lonely my darling since partin' with you
And by the next meeting I hope to prove true
And change the green lilacs to the red white and blue
[ 12-str.guitar ]
I passed my love's window both early and late
The look that she gave me made my heart ache
The look that she gave me was harm for to see
For she loves another one better than me

Green grow the lilacs...
[ ac.guitar ]
I wrote my love a letter in rosy red lines
She sent me an answer all twisted and twine
Sayng keep your love letters and I will keep mine
Write to your sweetheart and I'll write to mine

Green grow the lilacs...
**********

23.
NARRATION 6
(Johnny Cash)
� � '65 Song Of Cash Music, ASCAP �

Maybe at times life on the range was as peaceful and poetic
As those lyrics to Home On The Range imply
There were the calm quiet nights by the fireplace or by the campfire
There was the smell of strong coffee and the night howl of the timber wolf
And always that Saturday trip to town
And to the night-herder the herd quietly millin' around
But a cowpoke knew that even under the night shades of heaven
That any minute all hell could break loose
And start a nightmare of tons of chargin' crazed cattle
Some men may have had no fear of a six gun or a wild mustang
But just one word could chill the most calloused man and that word was stampede
**********

24.
STAMPEDE
(Peter LaFarge)
� � '64 Piedmont Music, BMI �

There's just one word I don't want to hear
When I heard it called it cost a friend quite dear
I can hear it echo as though it were now
When I was a chasin' of the long horned cow

Stampede they're comin' up to draw
Stampede three thousand herd or more
Here they come a smokin' fire boys you better earn your hire
Stampede and hell to score

Now Frank he was my partner he rode point upon my heart
We drank and fought and partnered back to back at troubles start
We heard the call on evening in the thunder and the black
When the lightnin' hit the leaders and the devil led the pack

Stampede they're comin' up to draw...

Our horses they were handy for we had just rode in
We went from drinkin' coffee to thinkin' of our sins
There wasn't time for prayin' there was hardly time to cuss
It was a smokin' roarin' rattle and the leaders were on us

Stampede they're comin' up to draw...

Old Frank's foot it missed the stirrup and his hand it missed the horn
And as the cattle crossed him from his body life was torn
I was mounted and a ridin' when I heard his final yell
Said hey Johnny head the wild bunch and do the ladies well

Stampede they're comin' up to draw...

No I ain't got no partner cause old Frank's done dead and gone
But just so he'd be remembered Peter put him in this song
Some admire headstones but I think he'd like this best
He weren't fancy in his livin' so he ain't fancy in his rest

Stampede they're comin' up to draw...
**********

25.
SHIFTING WHISPERING SANDS PART 2
(Jack V.C. Gilbert - Mary Margaret Hadler)
� � '50 Acuff-Rose Music, BMI �

(Listen to the age old story of the shifting whispering sands)
Yes they always whisper to me of the days of long ago
When the settlers and the miner fought the crafty Navajo
How the cattle roamed the valley happy people worked the land
Now everything is covered by the shifting whispering sands
(A miner left his buckboard went to work his claim that day)
And the burrows broke their halters when they thought he'd gone to stay
How they found that ancient miner lying dead upon the sands
And for months they could but wonder did he die by human hands
So they dug his grave and laid him on his back and crossed his hands
And his secret still is covered by the shifting whispering sands
(And his secret still is hidden by the shifting whispering sands)
This is what they always whisper to me out on the quiet desert air
Of the people and the cattle and that miner lying there
So if you want to learn the secret wander through this quiet land
And I'm sure you'll hear the story of the shifting whispering sands
(And I'm sure you'll hear the story of the shifting whispering sands)
**********

26.
REFLECTIONS
(Johnny Cash)
� � '65 Song Of Cash Music, ASCAP �

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

Top Of Page

Personnel

Charts