Best Cowboy Westernmen Poems
In eighteen-eighty two, the town of Tombstone, Arizona found its fame,
Inside its streets and cemetery it began to live up to its name;
The silver mines were making men as rich as they could ever hope to be,
And all the gamblers and the gunmen and the madams wrote its history.
October twenty-seventh was the day that no one ever can forget,
But what exactly happened there nobody quite agrees on, even yet;
But we all know for sure is some men stood and shot some other men who fell;
The good and bad and black and white are something no one knows enough to tell.
But legends live when men begin to die,
And no one knows what’s true, and what’s a lie,
And Tombstone, Arizona died a long, long time ago…
The cowboys all were cattle thieves who died inside of Tombstone’s streets that day,
The lawmen who had killed them all were gamblers who’d do anything for pay,
The bodies, they were buried with the truth, inside the graveyard out of town;
When Wyatt Earp and both his brothers met those men, they gunned them to the ground.
The marshals won the battle, but the time for men like them was running short;
Then Wyatt lost his brothers, but he didn’t take the murdererto a court;
He killed the killers, so they even swore a warrant for his head;
But Wyatt Earp died in nineteen twenty eight, so peaceful in his bed.
Mickey Mc Crew and Buckaroo Two cowboys of rowdy a draw
Rode up the town and tide them both down the horses next to the door
Dispute the cards saloon ajared poker of clubs a straight ace
A cheat on the board Royal flush a fraud a shoot out for all these old mates
Roll out to street the mud to a meet the ladies run for dear life
These men akin a gouge and spin mash up one another's poor face
Men apart and guns a dart the fear the eye and the watch
A tick a tock the new town's peoples clock and bullets fly in to the crotch
Poor men is them the undertaker send a tape up for six by two feet
The crowd pour out and scream and shout the sherriffs gone for you when
Carriage away the morgue one did say and bury beyond the bray hill
Down in the dust a hand lay out thrust 5 aces where one had just lay
In eighteen-eighty two, the town of Tombstone, Arizona found its fame,
Inside its streets and cemetery it began to live up to its name;
The silver mines were making men as rich as they could ever hope to be,
And all the gamblers and the gunmen and the madams wrote its history.
October twenty-seventh was the day that no one ever can forget,
But what exactly happened there nobody quite agrees on, even yet;
But we all know for sure is some men stood and shot some other men who fell;
The good and bad and black and white are something no one knows enough to tell.
But legends live when men begin to die,
And no one knows what’s true, and what’s a lie,
And Tombstone, Arizona died a long, long time ago…
The cowboys all were cattle thieves who died inside of Tombstone’s streets that day,
The lawmen who had killed them all were gamblers who’d do anything for pay,
The bodies, they were buried with the truth, inside the graveyard out of town;
When Wyatt Earp and both his brothers met those men, they gunned them to the ground.
The marshals won the battle, but the time for men like them was running short;
Then Wyatt lost his brothers, but he didn’t take the murdererto a court;
He killed the killers, so they even swore a warrant for his head;
But Wyatt Earp died in nineteen twenty eight, so peaceful in his bed.