| Come all you Texas Rangers, wherever you may be
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| I’ll tell you of some trouble that happened unto me
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| My name is nothing extra, so that I will not tell
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| But here’s to all good Rangers, I’m sure I wish you well
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| When at the age of sixteen I joined this jolly band
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| We marched from San Antonio down to the Rio Grande
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| Our captain he informed us, perhaps he thought it right
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| 'Before we reach the station, we’ll surely have to fight!'
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| I saw the smoke ascending, it seemed to reach the sky
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| The first thought then came to me, 'My time has come to die!'
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| And when the bugles sounded, our captain gave command
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| 'To arms, to arms,' he shouted, 'and by your horses stand'
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| I saw the Indians coming, I heard their awful yell
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| My feelings at the moment, no human tongue can tell
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| I saw their glittering lances, their arrows around me flew
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| Till all my strength had left me and all my courage too
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| We fought for five full hours before the strife was o’er
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| The likes of dead and wounded, I’ve never seen before
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| And when the sun had risen, the Indians they had fled
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| We loaded up our rifles and counted up our dead
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| Now all of us were wounded, our noble captain slain
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| And when the sun was shining across the bloody plain
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| Six of the noblest Rangers that ever roamed the West
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| Were buried by their comrades with arrows in the breasts
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| Perhaps you have a mother, likewise a sister too
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| Perhaps you have a sweetheart, to weep and mourn for you
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| If this be your position, although you’d like to roam
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| I’ll tell you from experience, you’d better stay at home |