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Thursday, 6 December 2012


The arm of the chair was more than an arm,
it was my horse as a kid while watching TV,
I watched all the westerns and lived every second,
for there on the screen I swore it was me.

I was James Garner, I was Bret Maverick,
I was Will Hutchins, I was Tom Brewster,
I was Clint Walker, I was Cheyenne Bodie,
I was Ty Hardin, I was Bronco Layne,
I was Robert Fuller, I was Jess Harper,
I was Michael Landon, I was Joe Cartwright,
I was Fess Parker, I was Davy Crockett,
I was James Arness, I was Matt Dillon,
I was Richard Boone, I was Paladin,
I was Clayton Moore, I was the Lone Ranger,
I was Jock Mahoney, I was the Range Rider,
I was Clint Eastwood, I was Rowdy Yates,
I was Dale Robertson, I was Jim Hardie,
I was Steve McQueen, I was Josh Randall,
I was Robert Horton, I was Flint McCullough,
I was Doug McClure, I was Trampas,
I was Cameron Mitchell, I was Buck Cannon,
I was Pete Duel, I was Hannibal Heyes.

I can’t imagine my life without western heroes,
the stetsons they wore and how they were dressed,
a young boy’s excitement at theme songs and music,
saddling up on the chair and riding way out west. 

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