The Ridders’ Restless Run

Across the spreading valleys,
And through the fields so wide,
In townships’ darkened alleys,
Wherever evils hide,
When bullets crack like thunder,
Where the outlaw points his gun,
To where the peace is sundered,
Comes the Ridders’ Restless Run.

They run by six or sevens,
With courage few will know,
Like storm clouds in the heavens,
They thunder where they go,
They rumble up each steep hill,
And down the other side,
They trust their wells of deep skill,
Until the day they’ve died.

When bullets start a’flyin’,
And courage fails ‘fore long,
And others would be dyin’,
The Ridder stands up strong,
Each Ridder is as hardened,
As leather in the sun,
No outlaw will be pardoned,
From the Ridders’ Restless Run.

In mining towns and cities,
We sing each happy song,
Our prayers and our pities,
Are kept where they belong,
Our thoughts are with each Ridder,
Through everything they’ve faced,
Turn sour bandits bitter,
And Rid them from the Waste.

The truth is in their shoulders,
In the setting of their jaw,
They’re strong as crashing boulders,
And steadfast as the law,
When the outlaw has surrendered,
The Rid has just begun,
They’ll return for justice rendered,
By the Ridders’ Restless Run.

By the Ridders’ Restless Run.