歌词：
Robbins Marty Gunfighter Ballads Trail Songs

I rode out of Kansas City, going south to Mexico I was running dodging danger,left the girl that I loved so Far behind lay Kansas City and the past that

To the town of Agua Fria rode a stranger one fine day Hardly spoke to folks around him didn't have too much to say No one dared to ask his business no

I was hangin' 'round town, just spendin' my time Out of a job, not earnin' a dime A feller steps up and he said, "I suppose You're a bronc fighter from

I got a hundred and sixty acres in the valley Got a hundred and sixty acres of the best Got an old stove there that'll cook three square And a bunk where

They call me a drifter, they say I'm no good I'll never amount to a thing Well I may be a drifter and I may be no good There's joy in this song that

only to a fall I learned that much and more the night I heard my Master call One night we rustled cattle, a thousand head or so And started them out on the trail