Dust on my saddle, mud on my boots
A couple of empty saddle bags, except for two old suits
I'm tired and I'm hungry, worried as can be
Last night I saw a poster and they're still after me
They claim we were in Clinton, last year in the month of June
They said on the night of the 17th, in Katy's old saloon
A man was shot in cold blood, in a friendly poker game
I don't know how it happened, but somehow I got the blame
Dust on my saddle, mud on my boots
A couple of empty saddle bags, except for two old suits
I'm tired and I'm hungry, worried as can be
Last night I saw a poster and they're still after me
Well, I've worked up in the gold mines and I've logged up in the hills
Come Spring, I'd drive the herds up, come Fall, I'd work the mills
Well, I've done most every kind of work, from letter A to Z
I guess I'll be a-riding now, the past is chasing me
Dust on my saddle, mud on my boots
A couple of empty saddle bags, except for two old suits
I'm tired and I'm hungry, worried as can be
Last night I saw a poster and they're still after me
Six years now since that fateful day. my riding days have ceased
Well I'm hiding out in Kansas, they think I am a priest
I'm carrying a Bible instead of a forty-five
Remembering that poster saying, "Dead or Alive"
Sunday sermon's over, I look out towards the bar
Several men are coming, one has on a star
Well, I guess this time they caught me, running ain't no use
This robe will never stop them, they think they know the truth
But now the star is speaking, he says that I am free
These years I spent a-running, they didn't have to be
Well, they caught their man six years ago, right after I left town
My riding days are over now and I can settle down
Dust on my saddle, mud on my boots
A couple of empty saddle bags, except for two old suits
I'm tired and I'm hungry, worried as can be
Last night I saw a poster and they're still after me
Dust on my saddle, mud on my boots
A couple of empty saddle bags, except for two old suits
I'm tired and I'm hungry, lonely as can be
E N.C. A