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.