Copyright 2003, Guy Smith, All Rights Reserved
I’m ridin’ stolen horses, runnin’ through the night
I’m going to find that man, I’ve got killin’ on my mind
I don’t know where we’re ridin’, I don’t rightly care
The job ahead of me is more than I can bear
And I can’t be forgivin’ for what I’ve got to do
I see him ridin’ on the ridge up ahead
I intend to see that man, intend to see him dead
His horse is strainin’ , it’s been running half the night
The cold fog cuts me to the bone, the ridge breaks morning’s light
I don’t care if I see his eyes, or if he ever sees mine
I buried her yesterday, put her in an early grave
Took the ring from her finger, put it next to mine, the one she gave me
I have my revolver drawn and I squeeze the trigger tight
He falls from my saddle, he falls out of sight
I cried and wailed, as that bastard fell
I know I’ve paid for my ticket down to hell
And I can’t be forgivin’ for what I’ve done
I’m ridin’ stolen horses
I’m ridin’ stolen horses
The story: First, my deep apologies for the recording. Still learning how to do track compression with the new gear. Deal with it.
One of my favorite songwriters, Ray Wylie Hubbard, wrote a tune called Stolen Horses, which oddly enough is about reincarnation (not a proper subject for an Texas boy to sing about – tsk, tsk).
Great song, but that phrase “stolen horses” got stuck in my alleged mind. It looped until I was completely distracted.
So, I asked myself under what circumstances would I steal horses. I wouldn’t bother in this day and age (as much as I like horses, you can get further and fast in a good pick-up truck, or a high jacked jet). And I figured I would have to be so blindly consumed by some mission that theft and just about anything else would be inconsequential.
So, naturally that meant killing someone.Which led to the next problem, under what circumstances would I hunt down someone with the intent of snuffing them. Revenge seemed a natural, but there would have to be a damn good reason.
Long story abbreviated, a story of revenge against a man who murders my wife, takes my horse, and I have to chase him down – and thus steal horses to do so. Then keep stealing and running for the rest of my days.
When I competed this song at the West Coast Song Writers Association event, one judge wrote “Wake up Johnny Cash!” Well, that was before Johnny went to catch-up with June. I wonder what he would have done with this tune . . . .