Back in Oklahoma, when I was just a boy,
My overwhelmin' hankerin' was to grow up and be just like Roy,
To ride a palomino and chase them outlaws down
Then ride off in the sunset with the prettiest girl in town.
Never in my wildest dreams did I think I'd ever meet him.
But a few years back, we took the train to Victorville to see him.
I sat in awe and listened to the hero of my youth
Heard that old familiar voice still teachin' me the truth.
He said:
"Rusty, I just don't like the films
They make these days with all their killin'.
That's why I shot 'em in the hand.
I knew the good Lord willin',
We could take them ornery outlaws and rehabilitate 'em.
T'weren't no use to gun 'em down and teach you kids to hate 'em.
I wasn't much for cussin', and you never saw me drinkin'
Nor abusive to a man nor beast. Cause I was always thinkin',
You know someday Roy,
Those little buckerettes and buckeroos
Are gonna reach maturity and try to be like you."
He smiled and put that white hat on
And I knew my time was up.
But he had just one more message from that master to the pup.
"We need to take these movies they make now a' days
And clean 'em up a notch.
Why there ain't a movie out today,
I'd let old Trigger watch."
Happy trails to you
Til we meet again... |