The Breed
 In Memory of Don Tello Franco  

Men born with hands to shape 
And love for smell of sweat
Who built lives against the odds
…More honorable I haven’t met 

Men who carved out lives
With coiled rope and steel spur
Who lived lives in midst of sin
Whose hearts and souls stayed pure 

Men born destined to horse and cow
Who shaped lives from sweat and blood
Smell of dust upon them all
Building from dirt and grass and mud 

True natives of our western range
Of hard but simple eloquence
Just living out destined lives 
Quiet, and proud, without pretense

Men, they say of backbone
Of foresight and vision
They lived and died by their word 
Didn’t think twice about decision 

Now, the quick to judge would say
A strange and lonely breed
But to tame these western lands
It took them to sew the seed

Being tempered by sun, and wind, and sand
Lonely hours in bad weather 
Their living was bold, and hard, and fast
…Legends…go on forever 

Now, they had kindness and love 
For blood and land, not money
Lets not forget their living…
Though they’ve ridden on with God to 
lands warm and sunny.

To M.S. Franco with best regards from M.J. Fusco11/11/02