Clyde

Clyde


There's a graveyard outside of town,
Home to a hundred souls.
Buried by loved ones long ago -
Put in a hundred holes.

Just one man's stone seems out of place,
His name is simply Clyde.
Ain't nothin' else to tell you who,
Or even when he died.

I asked ol' Jake just who he was -
Ol' Jake's a hundred three -
He laughed as he recalled that name,
An' how Clyde used to be.

Said he came ridin' into town
'Bout sixty years ago.
Was lookin' for a cowboy's job
An' talkin' nice an' slow.

Nobody knew him at the time,
Our town's a place to hide.
Runnin' from a hundred women
All searchin' for their Clyde.

The rumor had it way back then -
Clyde was born a lover.
Too many husbands found that out,
An' Clyde ran here for cover.

He lasted here for sev'ral years
'Til Leroy Jones came 'round.
He brought a double action Colt
An' put Clyde in the ground.

As odd as it may seem to you,
Gals still are on his side -
I saw a wreath the other day
That said God Bless You Clyde

He had somethin' I never saw,
An' guess I shouldn't care.
I couldn't help but like ol' Clyde,
Who's buried over there

cowboy poetry

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