Sam Bass

Cat. #0451 (MFH #585) - As sung by Mr. William Edens, Mont Ne, Arkansas on January 20, 1960

Sam Bass was borned in Indiana
It was his native home
An' at th age of sixteen
Young Sam, begin to roam
He first came out t' Texas
A teamster for t' be
A kinder hearted fellow
You hardly ever see

Sam used t' deal in race stock
He owned th Denton mare
He matched her in scrub races
An' carried 'er to th fair
Sam always coined th money
An' spent it just as free
He always drank good whiskey, boys
Wherever Sam might be

Ole Sam fell in the Collins cow ranch
In th merry month o' May
An' with a drove of long horn cattle
The Blackhills for t' see
They sold out in Custo City
An' all got on a spree
A harder set of cowboys
You hardly ever see

An' on th way back t' Denver
They robbed th U.P. Train
An' all split up in couples
An' started out again
Joie Collins and his pardner
Was over taken soon
At Buffalo Station, Kansas
They had t' meet their doom

Ole Sam rode int' Denver
All right side up with care
With all of his hard money
An' all his friends to share
Sam had four a noble companions
As brave as ever stood
Their names was Richardson, Jackson
An' Thomas Underwood

Four bolder, daring cowboys
Th range h'd never knew
They whipped th Texas Rangers
An' run th boys, in Blue

Sam had another companion
Called Arkansas, for short
Whose killed by a Texas Ranger
By th name of Thomas Floyd
Ole Tom's, a big six footer
An' thinks he's mighty bright
But I can tell his racket
He's a deadbeat on th sly

Ole Major Jones, that buried Sams good gold
Is not one t' pace
An' all th way he saw t' win
Was t' give poor Sam away
He sold Sam out in Bond
An' left his friends, to mourn
O, what a scorchin' he will get
When Gabriel blows his horn

Sam met his fate at Round Rock
July th twenty-first
They pierced poor Sam with rifle balls
An' emptied out his purse
Poor Sam, he's now a corpse
His pipe are in th clay
Bill Jacksons in th bushes
A trying to get away