Good Old Black and White
When there’s just too much news
That has more wrongs than right—
I watch those old westerns
In good old black and white.
I’ll watch that Rocky Lane
Or that Johnny Mack Brown—
Tim McCoy or Buck Jones—
Ones that once were around.
Ken Maynard and Kermit—
The ones that we forgot—
They come alive on film;
Show us all what we’re not.
They’ll never come again
In daylight or the night—
They ride on in our minds
In good old black and white.
There’s still Fuzzy St. John
And big Smiley Burnette—
On scratchy cellulose
That we’ll never forget.
Lash, Dean, Steele and Wakely,
Still grace that silvered screen—
Roy, Gene and old Hoppy
Were the best that we’d seen.
And where have they all gone?
Gabby Hayes, Andy Clyde?
Yes, we can still see them,
Even though they have died.
Yes, when the world’s too much
And we can see no light—
I watch those old westerns
In good old black and white.
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