We found his frozen body,

Near a mineshaft by the bend,

In his hand there was a letter,

That he’d had no time to send,

It said, Momma’ I’m in trouble,

There’s a posse closing fast,

But I have to write this letter,

‘Cause it might be my last,

They say I robbed a stagecoach,

On it’s way from Vera Cruz,

Oh’ Momma’, I’m so sorry,

But what they say is true ,

I stole five hundred dollars,

And a necklace made of gold,

But I wouldn’t have hurt nobody,

If they’d have done as they were told,

But someone tried to be a hero,

When he tried to shoot me down,

Now he’s lying where I left him,

About thirty miles from town,

And the posse’s drawing closer,

So I’ve got no time to rest,

Though my horse is near exhausted,

From where I’ve rode him half to death,

And there’s a blizzard in the distance,

But I’ve nowhere else to go,

I’m hoping they might lose my trail,

Beneath the drifting snow,

And if I can make it to the mineshaft,

I still might be alright,

‘Cause I can build myself a fire there,

And hole up for the night,

Tell daddy that I miss him,

If he’ll let you speak my name,

Say, I said that he was right,

I’ve just myself to blame,

And tell him, if he’ll listen,

That I wish with all my heart,

I could have made him proud of me,

But I was wild from the start,

Momma’, I can’t find that mineshaft,

The way I’d hoped I could,

And the snow’s so deep around me,

That I can’t find a stick of wood,

So if the posse doesn’t get me,

The blizzard will I s’pose,

Oh’ Momma’ I can’t write much more,

I think my hands are froze,

I can barely curl my fingers,

Around the trigger of my gun,

Momma’ dear, God bless you,

Goodbye, your only son.

By S.E.Ralph

27-7-2006