When I was but
a small boy, Father bought me many books
About the creatures of the riverbanks
And the sins of old sea coats
But the ones I never left behind With the long-forgotten games
Were the tales of wild and windy slopes
By the man they called Will James
All the living of his cowboy dreams,
oh,
So it seemed to me
A perfect combination Riding high and living free
His heroes were his horses And he drew them clear and true
On every page they'd come alive And jump straight out at you
And his race towards the sunset Was the high and lonesome kind
Like the coyote always looking back He left no tracks behind
So I've memorized those pictures,
boys They're still the very best
If whiskey was his mistress His true love was the West
I remember up on Dead Man Creek Back
thirty years and more
I hired out
the breaking coats Which I'd never done before
Just a city kid
I ask myself now
What would Will James do?
And you know it was the damnedest thing
But it kinda got me through And his race towards the sunset
Was the high and lonesome kind
Like the coyote always looking back
He left no tracks behind So I've memorized those pictures,
boys
They're still the very best If whiskey was
his mistress His true love was the West