Willie Seton was a lad, his age was just sixteen.
Golden curls run down his neck, the fairest ever seen.
His true love was the prettiest thing in the countryside,
And after Willie courted her, she swore to be his bride.
He had no gold to give her dad, no gold to buy them land,
And in his haste to wed his love he joined an outlaw band.
They ravaged all the countryside, their fortunes for to gain.
Until one cold and frosty day they robbed the Frisco train.
The train guard lost his life that day, but just before he died,
He fired a deadly pistol ball in Willie Seton's side.
His comrades they deserted him and left him there alone,
And holding tightly to his side he started out for home.
He had not traveled many a mile until the storm came on,
And Willie Seton found a log to set himself upon.
He leaned his back against a tree and held onto his side,
And in that cold and snowy wood young Willie Seton died.
He was sixteen when he loved, sixteen when he cried;
Sixteen when he robbed a train and sixteen when he died.
Thanks to Jason for the transcription of the lyrics!