RIDE ON, BROTHER: At Johnny Cash’s funeral, the chapel was cloaked in black and silence, the air thick with memory and reverence. When Willie Nelson rose from his seat, the room seemed to hold its breath. Frail but steady, he walked to the front, guitar in hand, his iconic braids tucked beneath a dark hat. He paused beside Johnny’s casket, laid a hand gently on the wood, then took his place beneath the stained glass. With a low, weathered voice, Willie began to sing “Ghost Riders in the Sky.” The room stilled. Each verse echoed like a hymn—haunting, reverent, timeless. It wasn’t just a song. It was a final ride for a friend, a legend, a man who once stood tall in black and walked the line for us all. When the last note faded, Willie nodded toward the casket and whispered,“Ride on, brother.” No applause. Just silence. And the sound of hearts breaking in time
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