cowboys last ride
Sunset tells of the days
end, now, pardner
setting the pairie ablaze
with its glow
like the dying flames of
a grass fire
chuck wagon waits for
hungary cowpokes
ranch bunks await tired
heads
north boundary fence is
fixed and nailed
posts stand true and
straight again
gates hung on fence post
hinges
nails all hammered hard
home
no more runaway cattle to
chase
your saddle hangs in the
tack shed now
dusty and dry, worn by
many days ride
reins and halter folded
and tattered
stirrups sitting on the
bench, rusted
grooming pack still
wrapped and kept
herd of cattle are
rounded up now
in corrals, counted and
branded
with stock feed and troughs
of water
milling about and making
a ruckus
locking horns with
each other
in yonder paddock, your
horse roams
proud stallion once, now
old and weary
sad look of days now gone
past
horse and rider working
as a team
total trust in each
others instincts
in my hand, tis your hat
and boots
dusty and battered, worn
from years past
and your gloves, hard now,
no hand to wear them
and a silver dollar, that
you carried safe
your lucky charm, you
would tell us
tis a long and silent
walk up to the hill
you had asked to be laid
there
peacefully and at rest at
last
watching out over the
land you worked
your one love now loved
you
the day is done, time to
rest now
you worked to live and
lived to work
and now the coyotes howl
their sadness
farewell, dearest friend
and good journey
tis for you, the cowboys
last ride
Sunset tells of the days
end, now, pardner
setting the pairie ablaze
with its glow
like the dying flames of a
grass fire
chuck wagon waits for
hungary cowpokes
ranch bunks await tired
heads
north boundary fence is
fixed and nailed
posts stand true and
straight again
gates hung on fence post
hinges
nails all hammered hard
home
no more runaway cattle to
chase
your saddle hangs in the
tack shed now
dusty and dry, worn by many
days ride
reins and halter folded and
tattered
stirrups sitting on the
bench, rusted
grooming pack still wrapped
and kept
herd of cattle are rounded
up now
in corrals, counted and
branded
with stock feed and troughs
of water
milling about and making a
ruckus
locking horns with
each other
in yonder paddock, your
horse roams
proud stallion once, now
old and weary
sad look of days now gone
past
horse and rider working as
a team
total trust in each others
instincts
in my hand, tis your hat
and boots
dusty and battered, worn
from years past
and your gloves, hard now,
no hand to wear them
and a silver dollar, that
you carried safe
your lucky charm, you would
tell us
tis a long and silent walk
up to the hill
you had asked to be laid
there
peacefully and at rest at
last
watching out over the land
you worked
your one love now loved you
the day is done, time to
rest now
you worked to live and
lived to work
and now the coyotes howl
their sadness
farewell, dearest friend
and good journey
tis for you, the cowboys
last ride
