In the winter of 1875 Jesse and Frank were wanted dead or alive

They robbed a stagecoach in Mexico

And made off with 2 million dollars of silver and gold

They rode hard north to the Wichitas, Hot on their heels was the Pinkerton law

A blizzard hit it was cold and mean

So they buried the goods down in a secret ravine

The James gang made their getaway from the Hills to Robber’s cave

And Planned to come back when spring came ‘‘round

but Jesse met his fate when Robert Ford shot him down

A Schofield cut into a rock, a copper map marks the spot

Talismans that point the way are the only clues that still remain

And some folks claim on a starless night they swear they see a lantern light

The Ghosts of the Brothers still searching for that loot

That’s buried up there somewhere on buzzards roost

Story goes Frank came back to Fletcher town and built shotgun shack

Wore out his horses searching in vain

But he never did find the treasure again

Little towns sprang up all over the plains the trail went cold cause the roads had changed

A heart attack sent Frankie to a cold grave

But the legend Buzzard’s Roost still lives today

A Schofield cut into a rock a copper map marks the spot

Talismans that point the way are the only clues that still remain

And some folks claim on a starless night they swear they see a lantern light

The ghosts of the Brothers searching for that loot

That’s buried up there somewhere on buzzards roost

A Schofield cut into a rock a copper map marks the spot

Talismans that point the way are the only clues that still remain

And some folks claim on a starless night they swear they see a lantern light

The ghosts of the Brothers still searching for that loot

That’s buried up there somewhere on buzzards roost

Buzzards roost