Headed for Wyoming, in 1882
A woman, a team, and a wagon
Gonna make our dreams come trueSettled in the foothills of the big horn mountain slope
Life is sweet, we lived on the meat
Of the deer and the antelope
We cut house logs on the moutain
With the team we hauled ′em down
Peeled 'em and we stacked ′em up
House, and bought 'em ground
Traded for some cattle, turned 'em out on the range
The skies were blue and we never knew
How things were gonna change
Ol′ powder river, you′re muddy and you're wide
How many men have died along your shore?
When you brand a man a rustler, he′s gotta take a side
There's no middle ground in this Johnson County War
Well, the neighbors stopped by yesterday
While I was outside choppin′ wood
And they filled me in on the local news
Ain't none of it sounded good
Said, there′d been some cattle stealin'
By some no count outlaw bands
We'd all been branded rustler′s
By the big ranchers of this land
Well it was us against the cattlemen
And the years just made it worse
First the drought and then the tough winter
Johnson County had been dealt a curse
Then there came the story about the two dry Golgia tax
Ranger Jones and John Tisdale both shot in the back
Ol′ powder river, you're muddy and you′re wide
How many men have died along your shore?
When you brand a man a rustler, he's gotta take a side
There′s no middle ground in this Johnson County War
Then last night at supper time
Riders stopped by chance
They said the cattleman and their hired guns
Just burned the Kaycee ranch
Two men had died this mornin'
Shot down in the snow
Now the vigilante army was on the march to Buffalo
Well the county was in an uproar
And every man saddled up to ride
Caught the cattlemen at the TA ranch
And surrounded all four sides
We hailed the house with bullets
And swore they were gonna pay
But the calvery came across the plains
And once again they saved the day
Well, they marched ′em off to Cheyenne
And no one went to jail
The cattlemen were all turned loose
And the hired guns hit the trail
And I guess the only justice
Wasn't much to say the least
Last winter me and mine ate mighty fine
On the cattle baron's beef
Ol′ powder river, you′re muddy and you're wide
How many men have died along your shore?
When you brand a man a rustler, he′s gotta take a side
There's no middle ground in this Johnson County War
There′s no middle ground in this Johnson County War
