Streets Of Laredo                                     We beat the drum slowly and played the fife       
(Kingston Trio)                                       lowly, And bitterly wept as we bore him along.    
                                                      For we all loved our comrade, so brave young and  
As I walked out in the streets of Laredo, As I        handsome, We all loved our comrade although he'd  
walked out in Laredo one day, I spied a young         done wrong.                                       
cowboy all wrapped in white linen, Wrapped up in                                                        
white linen as cold as the clay.                                                                        
                                                                                                        
"I 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,                                                        
Was once in the saddle I used to go gay. First                                                          
to the dram-house and then to the card-house,                                                           
Got shot in the breast and I'm dying today."                                                            
                                                                                                        
"Get six jolly cowboys to carry my coffin, Get                                                          
six pretty maidens to carry my pall. Put bunches                                                        
of roses all over my coffin, Roses to deaden the                                                        
clods as they fall."                                                                                    
                                                                                                        
"Oh, beat the drum slowly and play the fife                                                             
lowly, Play the dead march as you carry me                                                              
along. Take me to the green valley and lay the                                                          
sod o'er me, For I'm a young cowboy and I know                                                          
I've done wrong."                                                                                       
                                                                                                        
"Go fetch me a cup, a cup of cold water, To cool                                                        
my parched lips," the cowboy then said. Before I                                                        
returned, the spirit had left him, Gone to his                                                          
Maker, the cowboy was dead.