reckon we’re all right for the night–
strong campfire, good cover if
the Apache approach, fresh water and
cook made beans and 
cornbread, but there still ain’t no 
meat

stars sure look pretty tonight–
the Great Bear is high in the sky
so I reckon the Apache will have
good hunting soon

hope it ain’t us

doc’s still got the fever and
ain’t one of us knows what 
to do with his little vials and
powders and creams

I sure do miss my Sally girl,
back in Missouri, waiting
for me to send for her

I don’t have the heart to tell
her the truth–
ain’t no future for us out here 
in this God-forsaken territory

way things are looking,
ain’t no future for me
at all