Ride this train to any little trail in the West, you may find me riding alone late at night
My poor old horse don't understand why I ride at night and sleep in the daytime
Or why we ride in the bushes and hide every time I hear a noise
Well that's all I've done for months now running and hiding
You see, my name is John Wesley Hardin, no, I'm not proud of the name anymore
They say I've killed forty men, they tell a lot of different stories about me
Of course, I guess I'm to blame for a lot of it
I killed the first time when I was fifteen to save my life, but then I had to do it again
Then every bum in the country that was fast with the gun started lookin' for me
They called me the fastest gun alive, and I guess I was fast or I wouldn't be alive now
I got to where I couldn't walk down a street or in a saloon
Without some trigger-happy cowpoke
Wantin' to prove he could outdraw old John Wesley Hardin
Maybe I got a little bitter and didn't care whether I killed or not for a while
And I never quite forgot when the authorities in Huntsville prison
Dragged me up in the snow naked and horsewhipped me
Well, that's why I'm ridin' at night
I want to go where no one has ever seen me
Where I won't even have to wear a gun
Maybe, I'll settle down in a quiet little town somewhere
Even get a job on the right side of the law, who knows
Maybe in a new town the people will let me forget
I ride an old paint he's on the worryside
And I'm a saddle tramp about to cross the great divide
Where there's grass in the coolies and water in the drawl
And the forty-pound saddle won't make us both raw
Slow rider, slow rider, move on a little more
The sky boss is waitin' at the big ranch house door
I can't help but missin' the daughters that I had
One went to Denver the other went bad
My young wife died in a poolroom fight
But I try to keep singin' from morning till night
Slow rider, slow rider, move on a little more
The sky boss is waitin' at the big ranch house door
Whenever I die, take my saddle from the wall
Strap it on snuffy lead him out of the stall
Throw me on his back and turn him toward the west
He knows how to take me to the spot I love best
Slow rider, slow rider, move on a little more
The sky boss is waitin' at the big ranch house door
Eu monto uma pintura antiga ele está aflito
E eu sou um vagabundo com sela perto de cruzar a grande divisão
Onde há grama no coolies e água no sotaque
E a sela quarenta libras não nos fará cruas
Lento viajante, lento viajante avança um pouco mais
O chefe do céu está esperando na porta do grande rancho
Eu não posso ajudar, mas perdendo as filhas que eu tinha
Um foi a Denver o outro correu mal
Minha jovem esposa morreu em uma briga de sala de bilhar
Mas eu tento continuar a cantar de manhã à noite
Lento viajante, lento viajante
[Guitarra]
Quando eu morrer levarei minha sela da parede
Correia que cheira a rapé levarei para fora da barraca
Jogue nas costas e voltarei em direção ao oeste
Ele sabe como me levar ao ponto que eu mais amo
Lento viajante, lento viajante...
