As I wandered down the lane one morning,
As I passed by the bar-room one morning in May,
It was there I spied a handsome young cow-boy
All robed in white linen prepared for his grave.
Go beat the drum slowly
And play the fife lowly,
And sing the death march as they carry me on.
Then take me to the grave yard
And place the sod o ‘er me,
For I’m a young cowboy
And I know I’ve done wrong.
It was once in the saddly I used to be dashing.
It was once in he saddle I used to be gay
I first took to drinking and then to card playing
Was shot through the body ; so now In must die.
Go, call around me a crowd of young cowboys,
And tell them the story of their comrade so dear;
Then tell them another befor they go farther
To stop their wild roaming before it’s too late.
Go write me a letter to my gray headed Mother
And break the news gently to sister so dear.
Then there is another that’s dearer than Mother
Who’ll weep bitter tears when she finds I am gone.
Some one go get me a cup of cold water,
A cup of cold water the poor fellow said.
But when I returned,his soul had departed
And gone to his Maker; the cowboy was dead.
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