Willy Seton was a lad His age was just sixteen Golden curls run down his neck The fairiest ever seen His true love was the prettiest thing In all the countryside And after Willy 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 fortune for to gain Until one cold and windy day They robbed the Fresco train The train guard lost his life that day But just before he died He fired a deadly pistol ball In Willy Seton's side His comrades they deserted him And left him all alone And holding tightly to his side He started out for home He had not travelled many a mile Until a storm came on And Willy Seton found a log To set himself upon He leaned his back against the tree And held onto his side And in that cold and snowy wood Young Willy Seton died He was sixteen when he loved Sixteen when he cried Sixteen when he robbed a train And sixteen when he died