The Black Smith
In the old days of covered wagons, they were part of the Old West
Called them "Smithy's" back then, don't see them around much anymore
Swinging a big hammer down on an anvil, sparks would fly
Red hot iron from the burning coals of the forge, ready for the test
Shape a horseshoe or build a hinge for The General Store door
An old tradition that time has passed by
Ran the Livrery Stable in every town, a horse hotel for the night
Hay, oats and a drink of water, sometimes a cowboy would sleep there
Back breaking work for little pay, but a job done well
Next day shoe a horse or make a wagon wheel right
Most were strong and stout, would fight a grizzly bear
Work all day, sometimes when there was no Sun
Many joined the Army, when horse were the fleet
Several at every fort, shoeing for the Calvary
Because every soldier needed to ride and needed a mount
Fighting Indians or nailing iron on horse's feet
But those were their orders from the Army
After awhile it did not matter any, they would soon loose count
Times have changed, progress and new inventions are on the scene
And the old Blacksmith shops are gone, the forge and banging sound
The anvil, two pieces of hot molting welded to each other
This was the way it was told on The Silver Screen
But there are still some of them around
Changed their name, now they are called a Farrier
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