Lyrics Ballad Of William Sycamore - Steve Young, Jerry Shook

Ballad Of William Sycamore

And some are wrapped in the linen so fine
And some like a godling’s scion
But I was cradled on the twigs of pine
Down a lonesome mountain line
I lost my boyhood and found my wife
A girl like a Salem clipper
A woman as straight as a hunting knife
With eyes as bright as the Dipper
We cleared our camp where the buffalo feed
Unheard of streams were our flagons
And I sowed my sons like apple seed
On the trail of the Western wagons
They were right, tight boys, never sulky or slow
A fruitful, goodly muster
The eldest died at the Alamo
And the youngest fell with Custer
The letter that told it burned my hand
I smiled and said, «So be it!»
But I could not live when they fenced my land
Oh it broke my heart just to see it
I saddled the red, unbroken colt
I rode him into the day there
But he threw me down like a thunderbolt
And he rolled on me as I lay there