As
I walked out in the streets of Laredo,
as I walked out in Laredo one day,
I spied a young cowboy wrapped all in white linen,
wrapped in white linen as cold as the clay.
Oh, beat
the drum slowly and play the pipe slowly,
sing the death march as you carry me along,
take me
to the valley,
then lay the sod on me.
I'm a young cowboy,
I know I've done wrong.
I see
by your outfit that you are a cowboy,
these words he did say as I boldly walked by.
Come sit down beside me and hear my sad story.
I got shot in the breast and I know I must die.
Go
fetch me some water,
a cool cup of water to cool my parched lips.
Then the poor cowboy said,
before I returned,
his spirit had left him,
had gone to his maker.
The cowboy was dead.
Oh, beat
the drum slowly and play the pipe slowly,
sing
the death march as you carry me
along,
take me to the valley,
then lay the sod on me.
I'm a young cowboy,
I know I've done wrong.