Wagons West
Wagon west from Virginia’s foothills
Six kids in the family
Four wheels of wood and steel
Two mules a straining at the whip
Bluegrass Appalachian foothills
Ohio river first then the mighty Mississippi
Cherokee arrows, thankful Lord, they all missed
Camping under the arch, evening sun pointing west
Wagon master hollering, everyone get in line
If the weather holds, and no injuns attack
We should all be at our new home soon
Spearfish Dakota, in about three week’s time
Mr. Custer says is no need to worry about Sioux
Says their running scared of the bugle and the blue
The train, we got six injuns riding point
You can see the hate of us in their eyes
Mr. Custer, on your words
Thirty families risk their lives
We had not yet cleared Nebraska
News came, yellow hair and the 7th
Would ride these plains no more
One more week we made the Black Hills
Land of gold, coal, and lumber
O yes and several thousand Sioux on every side
Now my family and I are all six feet under
In this cold ground we had hoped one day to plow
