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THE YEAR OF '88 (Christopher Shaw ?) No doubt you've heard the story of the ones who headed west. Some made it out to 'Frisco; some who found eternal rest. Draw in here close beside me and a story I'll relate, Of the wretched souls who stayed behind, in the year of '88. Cho: If it weren't for Cowboy Willie, and the notes from Sister Blue, And the dance of darlin' Rosie (boys), I'd of never made it through. The winter screamed in razor cold, on a bitter New Years day; The young ones and the old folks, they all huddled up to pray. All the young bucks pulled out years ago, their fortunes for to find; Gone for gold to California, leavin' Essex far behind. Now a blizzard blew in, late that year, like no man ever seen. Buried towns from here to Buffalo, and all that's in between It seemed like God Himself had turned his back upon our land. Then the summer came in scorching hot, burned the crops into the sand. Now the news had come in some time back, when a rider stopped to say, Big North, young Kate, and the Goody boy had up and passed away; Leaving me and darlin' Rosie and our kind to carry on. From the depths of hopeless darkness came the saving grace of dawn. From the parched earth grew a single seed, showing green against the brown, And the valley came to life again, when the blessed rain came down. Rosie cried and Mama prayed, I could feel it in my soul, I thanked God that I had stayed behind, while the others looked for gold. Copyright Christopher Shaw @home @farm filename[ YEAROF88 SBK |
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