As I walked out on the streets of Laredo
As I walked out On Laredo one day
I spied a young cowboy all wrapped in white linen
Wrapped in white linen as cold as the clay
"I can see by your outfit that you are a cowboy"
These words he did say as I boldly walked by
"Come sit down beside me and hear my sad story
I'm shot in the breast and I know I must die"
"It was once in the saddle, I used to go dashing
Once in the saddle, I used to go gay
First to the cardhouse, and then down to Rosie's
But I'm shot in the breast and I'm dyin today.
"Get six jolly cowboys to carry my coffin,
Six dance all maidens to bear up my pall.
Throw bunches of roses all over my coffin;
Roses to deaden the clods as they fall.
Then beat the drum slowly, play the fife lowly,
Play the dead march as you carry me along.
Take me to the green valley, lay the sod o'er me;
I'm a young cowboy, and I know I've done wrong.
"Then go write a letter to my gray-haired mother,
And tell her the cowboy that she loved is gone.
But please not one word of the man who had killed me,
Don't mention his name, and his name will pass on."
When thus he had spoken, the hot sun was setting.
The streets of Laredo grew cold as the clay.
We took the young cowboy down to the green valley,
And there stands his marker we made to this day.
"We beat the drum slowly, played the fife lowly
Played the dead march as we carried him along
Down in the green valley, laid the sod o'er him
He was a young cowboy, and he said he'd done wrong.
As I walked out On Laredo one day
I spied a young cowboy all wrapped in white linen
Wrapped in white linen as cold as the clay
"I can see by your outfit that you are a cowboy"
These words he did say as I boldly walked by
"Come sit down beside me and hear my sad story
I'm shot in the breast and I know I must die"
"It was once in the saddle, I used to go dashing
Once in the saddle, I used to go gay
First to the cardhouse, and then down to Rosie's
But I'm shot in the breast and I'm dyin today.
"Get six jolly cowboys to carry my coffin,
Six dance all maidens to bear up my pall.
Throw bunches of roses all over my coffin;
Roses to deaden the clods as they fall.
Then beat the drum slowly, play the fife lowly,
Play the dead march as you carry me along.
Take me to the green valley, lay the sod o'er me;
I'm a young cowboy, and I know I've done wrong.
"Then go write a letter to my gray-haired mother,
And tell her the cowboy that she loved is gone.
But please not one word of the man who had killed me,
Don't mention his name, and his name will pass on."
When thus he had spoken, the hot sun was setting.
The streets of Laredo grew cold as the clay.
We took the young cowboy down to the green valley,
And there stands his marker we made to this day.
"We beat the drum slowly, played the fife lowly
Played the dead march as we carried him along
Down in the green valley, laid the sod o'er him
He was a young cowboy, and he said he'd done wrong.