As I walked out in the streets of LaredoAs I walked out in Laredo one dayI spied a young cowboy dressed up in white linenDressed in white linen and cold as the clayHis eyes were fast glazing and death was approachingHis white lips were curled and tortured with painHe spoke in a whisper of a scene far behind himOf his home in Montana he'd never see againBeat the drum slowly, lay the pipe lowlyLay the death march as you carry me alongTake me to the green valley, lay the sod o'er meFor I'm a young cowboy, I know I've done wrongOh bring me a cup, yes a cup of cold waterTo cool these parched lips, the cowboy then saidBefore I returned, his spirit had left himAnd gone to the roundup, the cowboy was deadLay the drum slowly, lay the pipe lowlyLay the death march as you carry me along