The Wild Frontier

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Jim Hastings

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Once upon a time in the wild frontier, a white boy had a run-in
With an Indian boy-yes, the real McCoy-who was just taking the sun in
Their eyes did meet from across a shallow creek, both boys sans of cunning
Just two young lads, little versions of their dads, the moment was... just stunning

Then the white boy lifted up his hand to express a greeting
And the Indian kid did like the white kid to accept their meeting
But then a shot rang out from the white boy's Pa and the Indian fell a'bleeding
In the grass by the creek in the late summer heat until his heartbeat stopped its beating

Now, hear the rum pum pums from the tom tom drums-the Indians are coming
Then the bum bum bums from the cowboy guns-the white men are a'gunning
And the buffalo go toward the setting sun's glow-they have to keep on running
In the wild frontier where life's so dear, the innocent are always done in

Once upon a time in the wild frontier a caravan of settlers set out
To cross the plains with their horses reined, following a planned route
You see, there were no trains or cars or planes for them to easily get about
Only horses and carts and hope-filled hearts led by men both brave and stout

But when a wagon wheel broke near a grove of oak-the fear in the caravan did rise
And someone spoke when they thought they saw smoke, followed soon by war cries
That went woo woo woo as a tomahawk flew and landed between a child's eyes
Then the arrows were released from the covers of the trees... 
And all in the caravan did die

Now, hear the rum pum pums from the tom tom drums-the Indians are coming
Then the bum bum bums from the cowboy guns-the white men are a'gunning
And the buffalo go toward the setting sun's glow-they have to keep on running
In the wild frontier where life's so dear, the innocent are always done in

Now, hear the rum pum pums from the tom tom drums-the Indians are coming
Then the bum bum bums from the cowboy guns-the white men are a'gunning
And the buffalo go toward the setting sun's glow-they have to keep on running
In the wild frontier where life's so dear, the innocent are always done in

Now, hear the rum pum pums from the tom tom drums-the Indians are coming
Then the bum bum bums from the cowboy guns-the white men are a'gunning
And the buffalo go toward the setting sun's glow-they have to keep on running
In the wild frontier where life's so dear, the innocent are always done in

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