The Ghost Rider
He ties his horse off at the hitching post
In the moon cast shadows you'd swear he's a ghost
As the stranger makes his way cross the road, to the old saloon
He pushes on through those swinging doors
His spurs, jingle, jangle on the hard wood floor
He parks his trail-dusted frame on the end bar stool
Orders straight whiskey, has a shot or two
He don't say much, just sits there looking at you
You can tell he's better left alone, not one for talk
Still you give him a nod, think to speak until
His firey stare just gives you a chill
Sends the hair on the back of your neck arasing
Makes you look away
Nobody knows from where he came
Legend has it, he rides a steel horse and Death is his name
He's gathering souls for that last cattle drive
So lend me an ear you cowboy folk
He might be a phantom, but he ain't no joke
Next time your fixin fence, you might think about mending your ways
Cuz one day you'll be riding that range
You'll hear distant thunder and feel the wind a change
You'll see that lone Ghost Rider driving a devil herd, hard across the plain
They say you can't outrun em, no matter how hard you try
But if you're lucky that day, he might pass you by
As he disappears with that herd into a clouded draw
Then the sun will come out, that East wind will die down
You look high and low, search all around
Wipe your brow and ponder, "did it really happen"
Only then I hope you'll realize...
You've been given one more shot at life,
From the Great Straw Boss in the sky...
© 1997 Rob Staffig-Piotter
All Rights Reserved
© 2009
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