Boone

Boone had a colt and a frying pan
A quarter horse, American
Half a heart, fully a man
And the greed of Eve and ol' Satan

Boone stole nickels and Boone stole dimes
To fill the hole and mask his pride
Though his mother said that the way of life
Was ever better in a poor man's mind

But Boone found that he had no peace
Licking the dirt and kicking the streets
Till he gambled a cent and came back with three
Bad bad Boone became a thief

No good could be found in Boone
No Robin Hood and no whistled tune
To the guilt of God he was immune
As that cursed greed just grew and grew

He had no wife, no boundary line
No cowboy code or moral sight
No child that he wouldn't fight
No widow safe from the cheatin' lies

What hurt another, ain't hurt him
He'd do anything for a pretty little gem
A coin in the bank, worth a whole damn limb
Cash ever flowing, spirit so grim

Rich in pocket, poor in love
His soul went down and the money went up
He died before he could fill his cup
And what a pointless life that was

Ain't no money gonna bring Boone back
From dust he came and that's what lasts
Good ol' dirt, we all shall pass
The rich the poor, both withered grass

Here lays Boone, so fully man
Forgotten on his piece of land
And buried with his frying pan
And the greed of Eve and ol' Satan



Credits
Writer(s): Anna Bates
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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