Letras
Early California was a land of magnificent horses and unexcelled
Horsemanship. In the little-known struggle for
Los Angeles two giants, horse and master, rode
Together on the King's highway, El Camino Real
One thought brave soldier, "I fear the tide of the battle has turned
The streets are deserted, the windows
Are dark where the bright candles burned
You must summon the soldiers with news of our plight
And carry the message along through the night
And swift as the wind, you will ride to the north
On the King's highway, El Camino Real"
Without hesitation, he sprang to the saddle, this deed to be done
Our fair California, this rich golden land is the prize to be won
"And should I be captured, the message I bear
Will safely be hid 'neath the locks of my hair
And swift as the wind, I will ride to the north
On the King's highway, El Camino Real"
The deafening cackle of Mexican bullets rang through the night
Like crows to the eagle, they swept
Down upon him as Juan took his flight
Mortally wounded, his horse pitched and fell
Then sprang up again like the phoenix from hell
And away like the wind in a new burst of speed down the King's highway
His dying horse faltered and plunged from the road
Down the brow of the hill to the edge of the cliff
Where the Mexicans would now make their kill
But he hurdled the canyon so deep and so wide
And all who dared follow tumbled and died
Then safe to the north he rode like the wind
On the King's highway, El Camino Real
One cried bitter tears for the horse that had long been his friend
So gallant and noble, so faithful and true to the end
Three bullets burned deep in the great stallion's side
Now safe from their guns who willingly died
With a tearful farewell, Juan laid him to rest
By the King's highway, El Camino Real
Five days he rode northward to Commodore Stockton, his message to tell
Borrowed or stolen, the horses he rode all served him well
But he swore there was never a hero so bold