Now men've seen storms come and go
with all their wicked fright,
but few have lived to tell the tale
bout them there riders white.
Was camp not far from border town
where holed up cowboys lay.
Gainst sand and wind they fought real hard
and made it through the day.
With water gone and night not far
the horses just dropped dead.
The cowboys weak too tired for talk
curled up in sandy bed.
Now men've seen storms come and go
with all their wicked fright,
but few have lived to tell the tale
bout them there riders white.
The storm raged on no end in sight
young cowboys all but lame,
when suddenly from some unknown
through sand and wind they came.
They rode in pairs all dressed in white
out of wind and sand a blow.
A ghostly crew of ten plus two
with extra horse in tow.
Now men've seen storms come and go
with all their wicked fright,
but few have lived to tell the tale
bout them there riders white.
The riders stopped in front of them
and two of them got down.
As they helped one up the other
watched with a worried frown.
They put the man on empty horse
and start to ride away.
The cowboy left cried out to them,
don't leave me here to stay.
Now men've seen storms come and go
with all their wicked fright,
but few have lived to tell the tale
bout them there riders white.
When daybreak comes and storm is gone,
the cowboy lifts his head.
The first thing he sees next to him,
his friend lying there dead.
It hits him like a ton of bricks,
he tries to catch his breath.
Those riders in the storm last night
were the riders of death.
Now men've seen storms come and go
with all their wicked fright,
but few have lived to tell the tale
bout them there riders white.
