Just an Old Cowboy
Written by Buck Tohill
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He was just an old cowboy
on the outskirts of town,
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Living alone in a house
that’s run down.
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I used to visit when I
was a kid,
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And I'd listen to tales
of things that he did.
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It was rumored that there
was a price on his head,
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Down in old Mexico they
wanted him dead.
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My mother told me to
leave him alone,
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But I couldn’t stay away
from his home.
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Inside his house there
were things from his past,
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Like a pair of old spurs,
some worn out old chaps.
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A cowboy hat hung on the
wall,
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There was a .44 pistol,
holster and all.
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With the innocence of the
very, very young,
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I asked, “Have you ever
shot anyone?”
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A faraway look seemed to
come to his eye,
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And just for a moment I
thought he would cry.
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He said, “Yes. Once in
old Mexico
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There was a woman and God
I loved her so,
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But her brother, Carlos,
wanted me dead
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And he’d made a vow we’d
never wed.”
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“One night when Carmen
and I were alone,
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Carlos found out and he
came to her home.
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He had been drinking
tequila all night,
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It had gone to his head,
and he wanted to fight.”
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“He grabbed for his gun, but his bullet
missed its mark,
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But my bullet went right
straight through his heart.
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When I turned around, my
Carmen lay dead.
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His wild bullet had hit
her instead.”
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F
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He was just an old cowboy
on the outskirts of town,
G7
C
Living alone in a house
that’s run down.
F
C
I used to visit when I
was a kid,
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C
And listen to stories of
things that he did.