Evacuation Of The West (a.k.a. No More Kings in Texas)

Was on the day the cowboys were band from the range

Metal touched the world as a master

They rode their ponies down into cities of gold

To leave them forever after

Now the sun was swollen red and old

The earth it was windy, dark and cold

Where the highway ends the desert takes it toll

So dusty, red and angry

It was a time when men died out on the prairie

From not having a decent friend

At night the ghost to the mode of riders

Was a howlin' canyon winds

You can hear em' cryin'

Good God, I think they're dyin'

When them rangers down in Dallas

Had all but all given' it up and left

And those that hung on hopin'

Was trying their best to, to forget

The way those outlaws and desperados

Right from the cheapest to the best

Rode in on ponies made of skin and bones

Gave up their rusty guns and went back home

And the governor was sent down from population control

And Marshall law was passed

Riverboat gamblers put their money on faith

For the time for hope had passed

In the cold blue light of the desert night

There was a thousand starry ships

And men came down from still I don't know where

With death on their fingertips

Now there's no more kings in Texas

I swear they rounded up each and every one

And old Atlanta Canastoga

Reached from the Rocky Mountains into the old dead sun

Now Anna Maria walks the plains alone

The last of a struggling people

She thinks of all those outlaws who wanted to reach for the skies

And got stuck up on the steeple

Oh, you can hear them cryin'

Good god, I think they're dying'

In the wind lord, you can hear em' sigh