Stan Bronson's Song about Posey

(Down From the Mountain, C P 1996, Stan Bronson, Blanding Publishing Co.,  Box AVIKAN, Blanding, Ut. 84511.  Used by Permission.  All rights reserved.) 
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Out on Navajo Mountain lived a rebel Piute chief.
Old Chee Poot's squaw gave him two sons,
He called one of them Sowager.
Before he reached his mid-teens
to Posey he changed his name.

Before he reached his mid-teens, to Posey he changed his name.

Posey followed those renegade Indians, no matter where they roamed.
From the time he left Navajo Mountain, he had no place to call his home.
He must have been eighteen or twenty before he combed the knots from his hair.
That was because he met Turah, a Piute maiden fair.

He vowed he'd take young Turah to be his very wife,
But Poke, Turah's grizzly brother, said he'd take puneh Posey's life.
The grizzly took the little squaw away, hid her in the mountains and the glens.
Day after day Posey searched for her; he could hear her voice in the wind.

Posey, your Turah cares
Posey, take me away
Posey, your Turah sighs

After many long months as Posey searched the rim of a lonely mountain plain,
He came across Poke and the Rooster boys in a heated Duckeye game.
He found Turah's camp not far away, only the squaws in sight.
So he freed his woman and away they rode, as the sun turned down its light.

Then one tragic hour in a playful quarrel, Posey accidentally shot his wife.
Three painful days she lay in his arms as the light faded from her eyes.

Posey, please hold me tight
Posey, your Turah cries
Posey, I love you so
Posey, your Turah dies

The grief-stricken Piute tried everything to clear his pain-wreaked mind.
Blood and thieving were the only things that could partly satisfy.
For many years he plundered all the county and more -- every rancher feared his name.
Then with Joe Bishop's son and the Dutchie boys he planned his final raid.

He stirred up trouble in a Mormon town but they were ready his game to play.
They shot him and soon he lay dying in a far away rocky cave.
He waited for his people to bring him help -- no one ever came.
But one evening as the sun caressed the mountain ridge, he heard his Turah call his name.

Posey, I'm waiting
Posey, your Turah's here
Posey, reach for my hand
Posey, sweet death is near
Posey....



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