Down On Antelope Creek
Music/Mike Wells & T D Carter ASCAP
1st Verse (Spoken)
There’s a beer joint way out there Where the bikers and the cowboys meet, Cowboy hats and leathers. . . Pick-up trucks and Harleys And it goes on as we speak, Tattooed women and spurs, The American flag hangs proudly On the back of a corner booth, To cover up the damage done, By the toe of a biker’s boot. Chains and knives, and 45’s And the picture sure looks bleak! But it happens every night, The “oil boom” at its peak The roughnecks and ranchers, You know the West was really wild; Black gold and red lights, For a Mother’s greedy child. . . . . .
Sagebrush covers the hills Along with the sand, the sun and the heat, The Cottonwoods are as scarce as the rain But the dry land grows mesquite Beer flows like water should The coons carouse, while the coyotes howl In a land not made for the meek
Don’t cha know that the Comanche Once lived here brave and proud Only to fall from the white mans gun so loud Now the pick-up screeches tires On what was once our home.
The war cries of his past The wounds will ever last. Where the grass spurs in your feet Somewhere on Antelope Creek.
Your mind went back in time When the wilds besieged the weak Many cried, lived or died
Don’t cha know that the Comanche Once lived here brave and proud Only to fall from the white mans gun so loud Now the pick-up screeches his tires On what was once our home.
Your mind went back in time When the wilds besieged the weak And only the fit survived
Copyright 2004 (His Power Productions & Publishing, A.S.C.A.P.)
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