Music
Stampede
(GIDDYUP)
2007-11-01
Michael Allen Ott
Written to honor my three brave brothers.
Drivin' a herd up that Santa Fe trail.
Two thousand head or more.
Widfire came rollin' up through brushy canyon
and the hoofbeats sound
like war.
Stampede, on that Santa Fe Trail.
No way to slow 'em down.
Stampede, get out of the way or they'll trample you
into the ground.
Fearless Glynn cut through the herd on his best mount Shiloh,
Ridin' like the wind.
He has no fear of death
and I couldn't catch my breath
until he rode out again.
Stampede, on that Santa Fe Trail.
No way to slow 'em down.
Stampede, get out of the way or they'll trample you
into the ground.
Tim dug his spurs into a horse named music
rode out in front of us all.
He has courage to spare
and he's always been there
when danger comes to call.
Stampede, on that Santa Fe
trail.
No way to slow 'em down.
Stampede, get out of the way or they'll trample you
into the ground.
Out of nowhere came Bud
his shirt soaked with blood
from ridin' through the brush and the briars.
He aint scared of nothin'
give the devil a whoopin'
for startin' one hell of a fire.
Stampede, on that Santa Fe Trail.
No way to slow 'em down.
Stampede, get out of the way or they'll trample you
into the ground.
My three brothers made a stand at the edge of the draw
as the herd came crashin' down.
Three guns a blazin'
not a bullet left between them
when they shut that stampede down.
Stampede, on that Santa Fe Trail.
No way to slow 'em down.
Stampede, get out of the way or they'll trample you
into the ground.