DESCRIPTION:
I traded in my horse at Amarillo
For a filly 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 filly'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.

And 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.

all material property of the Pine Box Boys