Red Headed Stranger - Willie Nelson

The red-headed stranger from Blue Rock, Montana,

Rode into town one day.

And under his knees was a ragin' black stallion,

And walkin' behind was a bay.

The red-headed stranger had eyes like the thunder,

And his lips, they were sad and tight.

His little lost love lay asleep on the hillside,

And his heart was heavy as night.

Don't cross him, don't boss him.

He's wild in his sorrow:

He's ridin' an' hidin his pain.

Don't fight him, don't spite him;

Just wait till tomorrow,

Maybe he'll ride on again.



A yellow-haired lady leaned out of her window,

An' watched as he passed her way.

She drew back in fear at the sight of the stallion,

But cast greedy eyes on the bay.

But how could she know that this dancin' bay pony,

Meant more to him than life.

For this was the horse that his little lost darlin',

Had ridden when she was his wife.



Don't cross him, don't boss him.

He's wild in his sorrow:

He's ridin' an' hidin his pain.

Don't fight him, don't spite him;

Just wait till tomorrow,

Maybe he'll ride on again.



The yellow-haired lady came down to the tavern,

An' looked up the stranger there.

He bought her a drink, an' he gave her some money,

He just didn't seem to care.

She followed him out as he saddled his stallion,

An' laughed as she grabbed at the bay.

He shot her so quick, they had no time to warn her,

She never heard anyone say:



"Don't cross him, don't boss him.

"He's wild in his sorrow:

"He's ridin' an' hidin his pain.

"Don't fight him, don't spite him;

"Just wait till tomorrow,

"Maybe he'll ride on again."



The yellow-haired

L'étranger à tête rouge de Blue Rock, Montana,

Monté en ville un jour.

Et sous ses genoux était un étalon noir en colère,

Et marcher derrière était une baie.

L'étranger à tête rouge avait des yeux comme le tonnerre,

Et ses lèvres, elles étaient tristes et serrées.

Son petit amour perdu était endormi sur la colline,

Et son c?ur était lourd comme la nuit.

Ne le traversez pas, ne le dirigez pas.

Il est sauvage dans sa douleur:

Il se débarrasse et cache sa douleur.

Ne le combattez pas, ne le mécontentez pas;

Attends juste demain,

Peut-être qu'il reviendra.



Une dame aux cheveux jaunes se pencha par sa fenêtre,

Un 'regardé comme il passait son chemin.

Elle recula de peur à la vue de l'étalon,

Mais jetez des yeux gourmands sur la baie.

Mais comment pouvait-elle savoir que ce poney dansant dans la baie,

Plus pour lui que la vie.

Car c'était le cheval que son petit chéri perdu ',

Avait monté quand elle était sa femme.



Ne le traversez pas, ne le dirigez pas.

Il est sauvage dans sa douleur:

Il se débarrasse et cache sa douleur.

Ne le combattez pas, ne le mécontentez pas;

Attends juste demain,

Peut-être qu'il reviendra.



La dame aux cheveux jaunes est descendue à la taverne,

Un 'leva les yeux vers l'étranger là-bas.

Il lui a acheté un verre, et il lui a donné de l'argent,

Il ne semblait tout simplement pas s'en soucier.

Elle l'a suivi pendant qu'il sellait son étalon,

An 'a ri en attrapant la baie.

Il lui a tiré dessus si vite qu'ils n'ont pas eu le temps de l'avertir,

Elle n'a jamais entendu personne dire:



"Ne le traversez pas, ne le dirigez pas.

"Il est sauvage dans sa douleur:

"Il se débarrasse et cache sa douleur.

"Ne le combattez pas, ne le dépit pas;

"Attends juste jusqu'à demain,

"Peut-être qu'il reviendra."



Les cheveux jaunes