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On old Boot Hill the breezes blow, And stir the sparse dry grass. While underneath the old bones lie, Unconscious that they pass. Long days ago these bones were men, Courageous, strong and daring. Who worked hard, played hard, drank and dealt Nought for tomorrow caring. Gaily they rode o'er the rolling hills Rounding up the cattle. Cheerfully brand a maverick, Or with horse thieves give battle. Next on Boot Hill a school house rose. And children shout and play, Unthinking, o'er the graves of those For ever passed away. Now a fair building crowns the Hill, With stately Spanish lines Linking up the stirring past, With busy modern times. There our City Government Shall henceforth make known its will. The bones of the lawless upholding the lawn On historic old Boot Hill. |
