A young man rode with his head held high Under the Texas Sun And no one guessed That a man so blessed Would perish by the gun Lord, would perish by the gun A shot rang out like a southern shout And heaven held its breath For a man shot down In a southern town In the summer of his years Yes, the summer of his years And we who stay mustn't ever lose The victories that he's won For wherever man looks to freedom's past His soul goes riding on Lord, his soul goes riding on!