_The heat acrost the desert was a-swimmin' in the sun, When Waring of Sonora-Town, Jim Waring of Sonora-Town, From Salvador come ridin' down, a-rollin' of his gun. He was singin' low and easy to his pony's steady feet, But his eye was live and driftin' Round the scenery and siftin' All the crawlin' shadows shiftin' in the tremblin' gray mesquite.…
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