Claude Dallas

In a land the Spanish once had called the Northern Mystery
Where rivers run and disappear the mustang still is free
By the Devil’s wash and coyote hole in the wild Owyhee Range
Somewhere in the sage tonight the wind calls out his name
Aye, aye, aye
Come gather 'round me buckaroos and a story I will tell
Of the fugitive Claude Dallas who just broke out of jail
You might think this tale is history from before the West was won
But the events that I’ll describe took place in nineteen eighty-one
He was born out in Virginia, left home when school was through;
In the deserts of Nevada he became a buckaroo
And he learned the ways of cattle, and he learned to sit a horse
And he always packed a pistol, and he practiced deadly force
Then Claude he became a trapper, and he dreamed of the bygone days
And he studied bobcat logic and their wild and silent ways
In the bloody runs near Paradise, in monitors down south
Trapping cats and coyotes, living hand to mouth
Aye, aye, aye
Then Claude took to livin' all alone out many miles from town
A friend--Jim Stevens--brought supplies and he stayed to hang around
That day two wardens--Pogue and Elms--rode into check Claude out
They were seeking violations and to see what Claude’s about
Now Claude had hung some venison, he had a bobcat pelt or two;
Pogue claimed they were out of season, he said «Dallas, you're all thru.»
But Dallas would not leave his camp. He refused to go to town
As the wind howled throught the bull-camp they stared each other down
Its hard to say what happend next, perhaps we’ll never know
They were gonna take Claude in to jail, and he vowed he’d never go
Jim Stevens heard the gunfire, and when he turned around
Bill Pogue was falling backwards, Conley Elms he fell face down
Aye, aye, aye
Jim stevens walked on over;there was a gun near Bill Pogue’s hand
It was hard to say who drawn his first, but Claude had made his stand
Claude said «I am justified Jim, they were gonna cut me down
And a man’s got a right to hang some meat
When he’s livin' this far from town.»
It took eighteen men and fifteen months to finally run Claude down
In the sage outside of Paradise they drove him to the ground
Convicted up in Idaho--manslaughter by decree--
Thirty years at maximum, but soon Claude would break free
There’s two sides two this story, there may be no right or wrong
The lawman and the renegade have graced a thousand songs
The story is an old one. Conclusion's hard to draw
But Claude’s out in the sage tonight he may be the last outlaw
Aye, aye, aye
In a land the Spanish once had called the Northern Mystery
Where rivers run and disappear the mustang still is free
By the Devil’s wash and the coyote hole in the wild Owyhee Range
Somewhere in the sage tonight the wind calls out his name
Aye, aye, aye