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True love knows no season Folk Songs
Billy G[D]ray rode into Gan[G]try, w[D]ay back in '[A]83
The[G]re he first m[D]et with young [Em7]Sara McL[A]eane
The w[D]ild rose of mo[G]rning, the pa[D]le flower of daw[A]ning
He[G]ralded the spri[D]ngtime in Bi[AA7]lly's life that [D]day
Sara she could not see the daylight of reality
In her young eyes Billy bore not a flaw
Knowing not her chosen one, he was a hired gun
Wanted in Kansas City by the law
Then one day a tall man came riding from the badlands
That lay to the north of New Mexico
He was overheard to say he was looking for Billy Gray
A wanted man and a dangerous outlaw
The news it came creeping to Billy, lay sleeping
There in the Clarendon bar and hotel
He ran to the old church that lies on the outskirts
Thinking he'd to hide in the old steeple there
But a rifle ball came flying, face down he lay dying
There in the dust of the road where he lay
Sara ran to him, she was cursing the lawman
Poor girl knew no reason, except that he'd been slain
Sara still lives in that old white frame-house
Where she first me Billy, some forty years ago
But the wild rose of morning has faded with the dawning
Of each day of sorrow, the long years have grown
And written on a stone where the dusty winds have long blown
Eighteen words to a passing world say
'True love knows no season, no rhyme nor no reason
Justice is cold as the Granger County clay'
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