An old cowboy went riding out one dark and windy day
Upon a ridge he rested as he went along his way
When all at once a mighty herd of red eyed cows he saw
A-plowing through the ragged sky and up the cloudy draw
Their brands were still on fire and their hooves were made of steel
Their horns were black and shiny and their hot breath he could feel
A bolt of fear went through him as they thundered through the sky
For he saw the Riders coming hard and he heard their mournful cry
Yippie yi Ohhhhh
Yippie yi yaaaaay
Ghost Riders in the sky
Their faces gaunt, their eyes were blurred, their shirts all soaked with sweat
He's riding hard to catch that herd, but he ain't caught 'em yet
'Cause they've got to ride forever on that range up in the sky
On horses snorting fire
As they ride on hear their cry
As the riders loped on by him he heard one call his name
If you want to save your soul from Hell a-riding on our range
Then cowboy change your ways today or with us you will ride
Trying to catch the Devil's herd, across these endless skies
Yippie yi Ohhhhh
Yippie yi Yaaaaay
Ghost Riders in the sky
Ghost Riders in the sky
Ghost Riders in the sky
Johnny Cash rocks! He's the only artist who could equal my dad.
Dad was an unknown, because the agents he met were evil scum. It looks like Johnny Cash's were too, but maybe they were smoother. I've read Man in Black: I don't think Johnny was dumber... But maybe the music was too important to the rest of us for God to worry himself about Johnny's health and marriage, though both lasted longer than average.
Dad met Johnny when dad went to Nashville with his band in the army in the late 1950s. I don't know what dad sang there, but he drew Johnny's attention and they had a conversation about dad's guitar, a beautiful Gibson that my mother still has and that dad always played when he got off "the boats." He'd sing those wonderful songs, by Hank Williams, Hank Thompson and Hank Snow as well as Johnny Cash - and the yodelling songs by artists I don't remember, and "The Auctioneer Song" and "Rye Whiskey" with which he used to win talent contests. Songs that required real vocal and guitar playing talent. Dad never had a lesson unless it was jam sessions he didn't consider it necessary to talk about.
He was most impressed by Hank Snow, I think. I'm pretty sure he didn't approve of my liking for Willy Nelson and Waylon Jennings, though he preferred them by far to my German Punk phase ("Scharze Gummi Stiefel." I still have that around here somewhere, and I could quote and translate the lyrics to you, if you cared). I have the range for Waylon and Willie, but I can't yodel, and my version of the auctioneer song is really disturbing. I can do most of the three Hanks' songs, and my voice is enough like Dad's to make Mom happy, but I can't play the guitar worth a lick.
Dad always listened to pop music (thank God, mid- to late- seventies/early eighties country wasn't worth a turd) and I liked it when he said this or that song was good. Dan Fogelberg's Leader of the Band met his approval. It should, it was his life story.
LEADER OF THE BAND
Dan Fogelberg
An only child alone and wild
A cab'net maker's son
His hands were meant for diff'rent work
And his heart was known to none
He left his home and went his lone and solitary way
And he gave to me a gift
I know I never can repay
A quiet man of music
Denied a simpler fate
He tried to be a soldier once
But his music wouldn't wait
He earned his love thru' discipline
A thund'ring velvet hand
His gentle means of sculpting souls
Took me years to understand
The leader of the band
Is tired and his eyes are growing old
But his blood runs thru' my instrument
And his song is in my soul
My life has been a poor attempt to imitate the man
I'm just a living legacy
To the leader of the band
My brother's lives were diff'rent
For they heard another call
One went to Chicago and the other to St. Paul
And I'm in Colorado
When I'm not in some hotel
Living out this life I've chose
And come to know so well
I thank you for the music
And your stories of the road
I thank you for the freedom
When it came my time to go
I thank you for the kindness
And the times when you got tough
And papa I don't think I said
"I love you" near enough
The leader of the band
Is tired and his eyes are growing old
But his blood runs thru' my instrument
And his song is in my soul
My life has been a poor attempt to imitate the man
I'm just a living legacy
To the leader of the band
I am the living legacy
To the leader of the band
Fortunately, country music had a revival before he died and he could feel that he hadn't been wasting his life as he sang his last songs in 1992.
Dad came down with Mesothelioma (Asbestosis) in the spring of that year. It took away his singing ability first. That was the hardest thing for me to take, and the hardest thing to forgive God for.
Two weeks before he died, he asked me to help him commit suicide.... I reasoned - not aloud - it wasn't worth spending prison time for.
He said, "It doesn't seem to be working."
I answered, "No."
I was relieved that he didn't suffer much longer because of my negligence of my duty as a son....
