Cowboy Church

A cowboy don't need no plushy pew or a rantin' preacher, Pontificatin' from his pulpit aerie as his spiritual teacher! He gits his religion from (to him) a more gratifyin' source, Cherishin' God's Great Creation from the saddle of his horse! He sits on a log contemplatin' the rigorous work to be done, Sippin' joe from a tin cup, admirin' the risin' of the sun. He saddles his faithful horse, Clyde, for the long day's ride; His old dog, Rex, with tail a-waggin', trots along at his side. He lifts his eyes up to yon Pikes Peak a-thankin' the Lord, For sech majesty and the herd of antelope a-grazin' on the sward. He crosses a stream and pauses listenin' to its soothin' hymn, As water caresses stones - sublimer than a cathedral choir to him! He dismounts, removes his sweat-stained hat and takes a break, 'Neath a ponderosa pine savorin' the breeze from a nearby lake. Cheery meadowlarks serenaded the old cowpoke in acapella style, Easin' the strain of his challengin' day and makin' livin' seem worthwhile. His workday was endin' and he ambled home along the dusty trail, To the bunk house where he'd be fed beans and bacon without fail. As the sun settled in the west, a glorious spectacle caught his eye; The Master Artist had painted a most beautiful sunset in His sky! No! A cowboy don't need no cathedral in which to worship the Lord! His redemption is reverin' God's Creation for his eternal reward!