Bill Grogan Rode

By: William Dire Wolff

Bill Grogan rode through Wichita,
From North Fork Pass by the Eagle Claw,
He rode down dirty, he rode down mean; Said he was headin' to Abilene,

Some say they saw him, some say not;
Some said nothing, and some forgot;
Stabled a pony, and the sheets were clean,
But no one asked his business in Abilene.

The streets were dusty,
And the wind did blow,
An Outlaw dreamed of Mexico;
Where the sage brush tumbles,
Bill Grogan rides,
To a hanging tree by the riverside.

Bill Grogan rode along his way,
No one thought much about that day,
But Newspaper words in typed black ink,
Got some folks talking about what they think.

Bill Grogan rode past Santa Fe,
Heading south was along his way,
Bounty hunter or cold blooded deal,
Pistol Shots with John and Steel.

The streets were dusty,
And the wind did blow,
An Outlaw dreamed of Mexico;
Where the sage brush tumbles,
Bill Grogan rides,
To a hanging tree by the riverside.

Maybe once he loved a wife,
Instead of eating beans with a hunting knife,
No rolling hills or happy farms;
Just dragon dreams in a drifter's arm.

Wanted posters hung on the wall,
Little David brought the giant's fall,
He came up short, but the tales are tall;
Among all those folks back in Wichita.