At a hotel in Jasper back in nineteen o eight

They parted ways one final time

North to Alaska to prospect a while

Billy had dreams of gold on his mind

As they shook hands that day and said Adios

There were thoughts of both good times and bad

It was many a year that they’d traveled together

Always friends through both good times and bad

As young boys they had hunted and rounded up strays

And fished in the warm summer sun

Billy was wild, maybe Tom a bit less

And together they always had fun

Then the war came along and they went south with Teddy

As the Rough Riders charged up the hill

And when they got home they went fishing again

But hunting had lost most it’s thrill

In the fields down in Texas they worked on the rigs

And the money was good for a while

Then one day Tom says “Never been to Montana”

And Billy just looked up and smiled

So they punched cows near Billings, slept in worn out bedrolls

In Butte, nearly died from the cold

Tom’s folks passed that year and he went to his sister’s

But he never got back in the fold

So they hooked up again in Cheyenne the next year

And they rode a few broncs for the crowd

Billy lost him a finger roping some calves

In the bar they both laughed long and loud

Then up north to Alberta just to see some new sights

The trip was a long one and cold

And in Jasper Tom said he was slowing down some

These adventures were making him old

He figured he’d get him an acre or two

Time to get him a wife and a home

But Billy was still a bit wild in his heart

Still had that yearning to roam

So they raised up their glasses and then parted ways

Though their hearts were left less than complete

Tom turned and walked to the door of the bar

Billy winced  when he heard the hoofbeats

There were letters that year from a camp in the Yukon

Tom read them all to his new wife

She laughed at his tales of the two wild young cowboys

And she asked him “Where’s that Yellowknife?

As the years rolled on by every now and again

The two men would send a few words

Tom stayed put and raised kids like he’d said he would do

Billy still yearned to travel the world

In the wintertime sometimes that old Spanish bullet

Would give Tom a twinge now and then

And he’d think of the time he lay near death that day

And how he was saved by his friend

Then a letter arrived in the springtime one day

Tom read what he always had feared

“Billy’s gone I’m afraid”, he just said to his wife

And she saw him brush back a small tear

He said, “Forty five years since I last saw his face

Or heard that wild laugh that he had”

And though my heart’s hurting for my dear old pard

I’m sure glad for the good times we had

I’m proud to have known him when we were just boys

I sure wish I could see him again

We weren’t brothers by birth but brothers in blood

And I’m proud to have called him my friend

Friends