Santa Rosa

Seems like ten years ago

Though today my mind is slow

Me and Mickey Craig

Were running west from Idaho

Robbed a bank to get some bread

Seems like fifteen men lay dead

In a path that led us straight

To Santa Rosa

Now and then ol' Mick'd say

Boy, at home you should of stayed

Than to follow me and learn the life

Of looking back

But he'd spit and slap his side

Just to see if he's alive

Then he'd sing his banjo song

Of Santa Rosa

He said, whoa

Singing, oh, Santa Rosa

Whoa, high and low

Then one day, sang ol' Craig

I'll be free to go my way

And be standing by the bay

At Santa Rosa

Now one time late at night

Mickey lit no fire light

'Cause he feared the posse close behind

Might flush us out

But he picked a bit 'fore sleep

To the tune of Cripple Creek

He was murdered by a man

From Santa Rosa, they shot him

He said, whoa

Singing, oh, Santa Rosa

Whoa, high and low

'Til I come once again

With my banjo pickin' friend

We'll be, oh, high and low

In Santa Rosa