He Calls This Place His Home

He could hear his horse blowin' as he watched the trail dust rise And he looked down in the valley where the old bunkhouse lies A few large flakes were fallin' an' tomorrow would be white A proper thing for Christmas day, he hoped it snowed all night He'd give his hoss some extra oats and rub him down a mite He shore deserved some extra care on this partic'lar night Tomorrow he knew he'd wish for a fam'ly of his own But he'd be warm and he'd eat well and wouldn't be alone He thought of Christmas with his folks way back in Tennessee But he'd got his taste of Texas and this is where he'll be Tomorrow he'll be thankful for that birth in the manger And pray that His birthday comforts all the folks in danger Then he'll take time to think about that blue eyed girl in town He just wondered how she'd look in a long white wedding gown Maybe next Christmas will find him in a home of his own But he's in the bunkhouse now and he calls this place his home December, 2016