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4 minutes • February 28, 2018
The Old West is dying. Might not be long until the Rider comes calling. Featuring Joshua Du Chene on guitar and vocals.
RYAN IKE | Composer/Author | ASCAP |
MATERIA COLLECTIONS | Original Publisher |
I was three days’ ride from Tulsa
En route to Santa Fe
And there beneath the blazing sun
My horse began to sway
Was then I heard a thunderous sound
Come risin’ up behind
The hoofbeats of twelve horsemen
Their course locked on to mine
White Rider
White Rider
Ain’t fixin’ for to join your fated line
White Rider
White Rider
Don’t come to claim me ‘fore I had my time
Was four days’ ride from Tulsa
The Riders still in tow
They were dressed in white from toe to tip
Pale horses trod below
And last among their number
A chilling sight to see
The thirteenth horse lay empty
with a saddle meant for me
White Rider
White Rider
Ain’t fixin’ for to join your fated line
White Rider
White Rider
Don’t come to claim me ‘fore I had my time
Was five day’s ride from Tulsa
When I pitched into the sand
My legs gave out, my body lacked
the strength enough to stand
The Horsemen moved upon me then
Their leader to my side
Said “Son, I think the time has come
To saddle up and Ride.”
White Rider
White Rider
Well, day will come we all will join that line
White Rider
White Rider
They come to claim me now I had my time
Now I had my time
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