Through the grey frosty dawn
Every cold winters morn
Rode this lad full of life and joy
Every day just the same
Down the roadway he came
He was known as their own saddle boy
In his youth free from strife
He was called from this live
From the sorrows of lifes highway
He was needed above
At the homestead of love
For the last final roundup someday
Now the sad willows wave
On a cold silent grave
Where the tall grasses bend and bow
And the jackasses laugh
Is the only epitapn
O're the grave of the brave saddle boy
At the schoolhouse on the rise
Teacher always watched the skies
For the storm clouds that rose like foam
You've a long way he said
So you'd better go ahead
Saddle up Saddle boy ride for home
He had ten miles to ride
Through the dark countryside
As the storm all around raged on
Just one creek left to cross
Struck by driftwood boy and horse
Swept away by the mad raging foam
And the lighting overhead
Showed the last sandy bed
Where the boy and the pony lay
And old boundry rider Troy
Was the one who found the boy
And who took the saddening message home next day
And the old people say
Of the long nights in May
When the wind though the valley roams
Pounding hoove beats resound
Through the tall timber land
It's their own saddle boy riding home
Writer(s): David Gordon Kirkpatrick
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