From the recording FROM WHERE I CAME


Trail Town Dust
Scott Bragonier (Ox Yoke C Music/ASCAP)

I could smell gunsmoke and saddle soap
But I could not tell you why
I saw an eagle soar from polecat bench
Around the basin wide

A few days later in our small town paper
We read about his life
It was the passing of a legend
It was the night Bob Edger died

Born a hundred years too late
You were the last of your kind
Caught between two worlds
You made you place in time

You left your mark on me
You left the west for us
With your quiet memory
In this trail town dust

Workin man's sweat in a Stetson hat
Log walls made of pine
Rusty floor boards in an old green Ford
The simple life fit you fine

An eye to the future a foot in the past
When you walked through an ancient camp
You saw
You heard their voices and their chants


Hand on your Sharps and your 45 Long
You were quick with a story, but quicker with your gun