| Ride, cowboy, ride
|
| Don’t ride too slow
|
| Tucson’s a mighty long way yet to go
|
| He started his long ride in Prescott
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| The sun was a hundred or more
|
| On down he rode at full gallop
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| Into the flat desert floor
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| Driving the big herd to Flagstaff
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| In Prescott the letter was there
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| Happiness soon would be sorrow
|
| Sad news the letter did bear
|
| Ride, cowboy, ride
|
| Don’t go too slow
|
| Ride, cowboy, ride
|
| You’ve a long way to go
|
| Your darlin' now lies on her deathbed
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| Racked by fever and pain
|
| Reaching for you at her bedside
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| At each breath she’s callin' your name
|
| Forward he leaned in the saddle
|
| Pushing through mesquite and sage
|
| His head never raised for a greeting
|
| As he passed the Wickenburg stage
|
| Ride, cowboy, ride
|
| Don’t ride too slow
|
| Tucson’s a mighty long way to go
|
| In Phoenix he traded horses
|
| Now on the back of this roan
|
| He could see visions of Tucson
|
| His darlin' and their lovely home
|
| Ride, cowboy, ride
|
| Don’t ride too slow
|
| There’s still a hundred and twenty to go
|
| In through the ranch gate he galloped
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| And without breaking his stride
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| He bounded out of the saddle
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| And rushed to his sweet darlin’s side
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| Then as the dyin' girl saw him
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| A smile came over her face
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| Holding her hand as it tightened
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| Barely had he won the race
|
| Ride, cowboy, ride
|
| On through the blue
|
| Ride, cowboy, ride
|
| She’ll be waiting for you
|
| Ride, cowboy, ride
|
| On through the blue
|
| Ride, cowboy, ride
|
| She’ll be waiting for you |