Willie Seton - Tom Paxton

Willie Seton was a lad

His age was just sixteen

Golden curls run down his neck

The fairest ever seen

His true love was the prettiest thing

In the countryside

And after Willie courted her

She swore to be his bride

He had no gold to give her dad

No gold to buy them land

And in his haste to wed his love

He joined an outlaw band

They ravaged all the countryside

Their fortunes for to gain

Until one cold and frosty day

They robbed the Frisco train

The train guard lost his life that day

But just before he died

He fired a deadly pistol ball

In Willie Seton’s side

His comrades they deserted him

And left him there alone

And holding tightly to his side

He started out for home

He had not traveled many a mile

Until the storm came on

And Willie Seton found a log

To set himself upon

He leaned his back against a tree

And held onto his side

And in that cold and snowy wood

Young Willie Seton died

He was sixteen when he loved

Sixteen when he cried

Sixteen when he robbed a train

And sixteen when he died