All that I can hope
is that when I die
and go to cowboy heaven,
the first face I see
will be Louis LaMoure
fixing me up a mess of beans.
We'll eat our fill and head out:
strap on our Winchesters,
and grab an armload of freight cars.
Maybe we'll go to James City.
Just say you'll be there, Louis,
with a big bag full of bear claw.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
.JPG)
No comments:
Post a Comment