The Last Cowboy
Silent sage and chaparral
Gather ‘round the old corral,
Like the cowhands way back then
When the Old West did begin.
Too soon gone are all the days
Of the cowboy and his ways—
He’ll be herdin’ now no more
Like he did in times before.
He’ll soon sell his saddle, too—
Thinkin’ now that he’s all through,
But he lingers ‘round the gate
Still uncertain of his fate.
Though no wages does he draw,
He still works for grub and chaw
And still by the fire at night
He tells stories of his plight.
Too soon gone are all the days
Of the cowboy and his ways—
He’ll be herdin’ now no more
Like he did in times before.
Yet, still he comes ‘round the spread
Like a phantom of the dead—
We let him stay in the bunk
To spin windies and get drunk.
But his days now dwindle fast,
Still sad those times did not last—
But that cowboy never dies
In our songs and words and lies.
Too soon gone are all the days
Of the cowboy and his ways—
He’ll be herdin’ now no more
Like he did in times before.
Silent sage and chaparral
Gather ‘round the old corral,
Like the cowhands way back then
When the Old West did begin.
Copyright © Glen Enloe | Year Posted 2005
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