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Legends Never Die
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Bill Miller
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1
A tall black cowboy hat pulled down low to hide his eyes
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While lines of weekend window shoppers just kept rollin' by
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I spotted him from my old truck as he stood out in the crowd
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He was a little more than twice my age, but he still looked strong and proud
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Hadn't seen my uncle now since I was seventeen
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And the stories of the wild, wild west kept comin' back to me
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He didn't say too much, just tipped his has as he closed the old truck door
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And I knew that this trip down Highway 10 would bring me so much more
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Where the old man and the little boy could see things eye to eye
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He took me back to a place in time where legends never die...
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His hands and face were lined and weathered, they told stories of their own
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His skin as red as desert clay, his eyes as black as coal
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He was a cowboy and an Indian, just a little bit of both
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For years of working the ranches and rodeos he didn't have much to show
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Then he closed his eyes and spoke to me, his voice was like the wind
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And that truck turned into a raging steed so he could ride again
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He grabbed the colors from the sky, put them in his hands,
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Sprinkled them across the road like grains of colored sand.
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