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THE ZEBRA DUN |
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Hunted by many a posse, Always on the run, Every man's hand against them, They fought, and often won.
With a price upon each head, They'd have to fight and stand, And die as game as any man With a gun in either hand.
My hat off to you, women outlaws,
For you did what you thought best,
And the same wild blood that coursed your veins
Has settled up the West.
Whether right or wrong, your spirit Knew not the word of fear — And 't is the dauntless courage of your kind That bred the pioneer I
THE ZEBRA DUN
First heard the song sung by Randolph Reynolds, Car-rizozo Flats, in 1890.
We were camped on the plains at the head of
the Cimarron When along came a stranger and stopped to arger
some. He looked so very foolish that we began to look
around, We thought he was a greenhorn that had just
'scaped from town. |
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