The West Won’t Weep for Me

I’ve seen the plains turn men to ghosts, Lost my share and counted most. No grave will carry what I’ve been— The West won’t weep again.

Ride on, ride on, the dust is kind; It don’t look back, it don’t mind.

The West won’t weep for me, it never knew my name. Wind will keep my story, but it won’t call it shame. If the sun goes down before I’m free— The West won’t weep for me.

Towns forget, but roads recall, Every bootprint, every brawl. I don’t need their cross or plea— The West won’t weep for me.

Ride on, ride on, till the fires fade; Dust remembers what I made.

The West won’t weep for me, and that’s alright by God. I never asked for praise or nod. When I fall, let the earth agree— The West won’t weep for me.

Tears ain’t the currency I keep; I paid in dust for peaceful sleep.

The West won’t weep for me (No weep!), Stone won’t speak for me (No weep!). If heaven’s gate refuses key— The West won’t weep for me.

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