The Cowboy Way
why oh why'd I have to be a cowboy
Riding on the range like Roy and Gene
Singing in the saddle with their guitars
Strumming to the humming
Of the sons of pioneers
Young boys were shooting rustlers too
Even now the memory lingers
Despite the long forgotten years
Imagined six guns spun on fingers
Blowing smoke and smiling through
Poorer times with held back tears
Thirty years of working still don't have a single dime
No such thing as overtime
Dark t' dark is normal every week has seven days
Watching dawn awake the sky With fresh coffee and new day
I see the answer to the why I live the cowboy way
Digging ponds and mending fence Is just a bit of self defense
from City life and hassle seen Driving truck and smelling gasoline
These boots wa'nt made for walkin'much
These lips aint ever prattled such
Both old and cracked and losing touch
But comfortable tight
Wasted words so seldom heard
Cep' maybe by the herd
Copyright © Donald Meikle | Year Posted 2005
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