Another Day In the Makin

Griping and growling, the camp cook is up I know that he was born with an attitude No way one can slumber around here Smelling the coffee boiling, I need a cup Wide open spaces, kitchen is kind of crude Three more hours before the Sun will appear Roll a smoke and roll you bed No longer time to snore Shake the scorpions out of your boots No counting the cob webs in your head Do worry about closing the door Tumbleweeds have shallow roots Crazy cattle, wild broncs for the day You just know they have been eating loco weed A run for your money, make you grab the saddle horn That is how you earn your pay And the nature of the breed In a pasture full of mesquite thorn Supper will be around midnight Hot cup of coffee and a cold biscuit Come payday, maybe some bacon Around a campfire light Then you know that it is time to quit For a cowboy, just another day in the making