Wild, Wild West

We're The Riders
by Dave Rhodes

It's a thankless life we lead
‘cause nobody knows our names.
We are silhouettes on the hills
and shadows on the plains.

What we carry runs the nation
and we execute our duty well.
We're the Pony Express riders,
the boys that carry the mail.

We've been shot at and ambushed,
chased down and almost kilt,
soaked through and frozed,
survived heat that made us wilt.

The food is a little scarce
and the pay is hardly scale.
We're the Pony Express riders,
the boys that carry the mail.
We're all excellent horsemen
and the mustang is our ride . . .
the wilder and faster the better
to get the job done in stride.
An oath we all took in earnest
and made a promise not to fail.
We're the Pony Express riders,
the boys that carry the mail.

You could say that we are brave
and we have all been scared,
but mostly we're just too young
to know what should be feared.

Racing time and the telegraph
out here on the lonely trail . . .
we're the Pony Express riders,
the boys that carry the mail.