Megan Murphy

by Pete Sutherland



Megan Murphy was a cowgirl, she rode five days a week

She drove the horse drawn wagon tour in the town of Cripple Creek

Cripple Creek's a museum now, a little history lingering on

And the Colorado goldrush is a long time past and gone



One sunny summer afternoon in the bicentennial year

Echoes of the goldrush seemed to ring in every ear

High above the Rockies the sun was heading west

Megan Murphy tied her horses up to take a moment's rest



There was someone in the crowd that day in a curious frame of

mind

Who didn't know that show horses are not the gentle kind

The reins were loosed from the hitching post and the horses were

let go

And the reason for this happening no one seems to know

Megan, heading up the street, heard someone shout out loud

She turned in time to see her team bolting for the crowd

Mothers grabbed for children and fathers cried to run

Many in the crowd that day felt sure their time had come



Without a thought for her own safety, down the dusty street she

tore

She found that she was running faster than she'd ever run before

She reached her arms out blindly and the horses' reins she found

An endless second later she lay trampled on the ground



For four long days the people feared for Megan Murphy's death

Through punctured lungs and broken ribs she could hardly draw

her breath

The doctors at the hospital did all that they could do

It was the hopes and prayers of Cripple Creek that finally pulled

her through



Megan Murphy was a cowgirl, she rode five days a week

She drove the horse drawn wagon tour in the town of Cripple Creek

Folks called her a hero and they paid her doctor costs

For the day she stopped the stampede, not a single life was lost



@cowboy @feminist

recorded by Cindy Mangsen on Settle Down

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