Dust on my saddle mud on my boots
A coupla 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
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 ev'ry kind of work from letter A to Z
I guess I'll be a ridin' now the past is chasing me
Six years now since that fateful day my ridin' days have ceased
I'm hidin' out in Kansas now they think I am a priest
I'm carryin' a Bible instead of a 45
Rememberin' that poster sayin' Dead or Alive
The Sunday sermon's over I look out towards the bar
Several men are comin' one has on a star
Well I guess this time they caught me runnin' 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 runnin' they didn't have to be
Well they caught their man six years ago right after I left town
My ridin' days are over now and I can settle down
Dust on my saddle mud on my boots
A coupla empty saddle bags except for two old suits
I'm tired and I'm hungry lonely as can be
I'm bound for Carolina and my family