Blue Western Dream

She’s a Blue Western Dream, like no cowpoke’s ever seen, She’s got Gold Rush nuggets in her eyes, She’s a gunfighter’s gal…she’s like the O.K. Corral, She’ll leave you in Boot Hill, bye and bye. On the Oregon Trail, her heart was for sale, So she took the Wagonmaster to bed; But his wife found out, so the pioneers kicked her out On the desert in her dress made of red. She’s part Cherokee…and she’s all Tennessee, But Texas weren’t big enough for her. A cattleman from Cheyenne, she told him “You’re my man.” Then she raked him with the rowels of her spur. And she finally settles down in a Nevada ghost town, Population, seventeen. Through her memories and her tears she relives all those years Through the pages of a Western magazine…