Roy rode into Houston
On the fifteenth of July
They'd brought him in to help clean up the town

He worked the Exxon building
Down on 21st and Main
From the 42nd floor down to the ground

He worked without a scaffold
And he always worked alone
And everybody knew he was the best

People'd come from miles around
And stand down in the street
To watch the Fastest Squeegee in the West

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Window-washing cowboy
Make 'em shiny clean
Windex and a squeegee in your hand
You'll never find another love like your sweet Marie
From Abilene down to the Rio Grande

Roy saw her there one morning
On the 37th floor
The nameplate on her desk just said "Marie"

He made sure he was cleaning
The second window from the right
Every Thursday at precisely 10:03

He'd tap the glass and wave
And she'd look up and give a smile
Each time she did, his heart would swell with pride

And even though they'd never spoken once
Roy vowed to Heaven
That one day he'd make that sweet Marie his bride

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It took him months, but Roy
Worked up the nerve to bare his soul
So up he went to ask her for her hand

And when he reached the window
There she was: his sweet Marie
Wrapped in the arms of the carpet-cleaning man

He hung there for a moment
As his poor heart broke in two
And all his hopes and dreams came crashing down

Then Roy unhitched his safety line
And, with a mournful cry
He raced his final teardrops to the ground

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And so there ends the tragic tale
Of squeegee-slingin' Roy:
A lonely soul who loved and died in vain

He left his mark on Main Street
And no matter how they tried
They couldn't scrub away that cowboy-colored stain

On Thursdays, people say
You still can see him up above
And the echoes of his final cry remain

And to this day, they tell the tale
Of the window-washing cowboy
He loved windows, but he couldn't stand the pain…

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