| Never in this world before or nevermore hereafter
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| Could a land know such a people as the pioneer the cowboy
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| His clothes his conversation his unique brand of lingo
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| All his devil deeds of daring his hat his bandana the dirty boots and ragged
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| chaps
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| But mainly that sixgun dangling so’s his hand could get it quickly
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| But draw your own conclusions lean to your own understandings
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| Your beliefs and your convictions
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| Disprove any fact recorded in these sounds and songs and legends
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| But I ask you if you do be sure you’ve walked in many mocassins
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| Over many many pathways and that you have listened carefully
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| Really listened to the west wind and to everything it whispers
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| And then go back and listen listen to this once more to these legends and
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| traditions
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| They’re only one reflection of a tick of time of that time
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| Just ponder on the things that happened
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| As we gaze so very deeply in the time and place and persons
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| Seeing now and then the West as it really was
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| And to tell you of a little that we saw there
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| And looking backward through a century
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| There was the True West there was the Real True West
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| Not demanding an argument but rather hoping you looked with us
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| And saw it as we saw it
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| And heard that west wind screaming shouting almost speaking
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| Always whispering of these things we sang and spoke of
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| And you’ll hear perhaps the things the we said in the stories
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| And the legends and traditions
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| Through the wind that breeze these tales of the ones who never made it
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| Yet fighting heat and mountains plains and valleys snow and hunger
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| They went westward westward westward |