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