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Last Song of the Old Cowpoke
Oh, your saddle needs a soapin'
And your spurs are flecked with rust--
And there ain't much need for hopin'
'Cause your boots are touched with dust.
The days last a little longer--
There ain't nothin' much to do--
But memories grow stronger
'Cause your ridin' days are through.
You sing in that roan rockin' chair
And you ain't got no regret--
Days go by as you sit and stare
But some things you don't forget.
The West is still within your mind
And you smell the sea and sage--
You never knew the modern grind--
You're young at heart and never age.
Oh, your cowpoke hat's a hangin'
And your fringe of hair is gray--
There's no dinner bells a clangin'
At the end of lonesome day.
Yes, these days aren't meant for moapin'--
In the good Lord you will trust--
For no more you'll go a ropin'--
Now you're ridin' with the dust.