I never minded working for board and pocket change
On someone else's ponies, on someone else's range.
You know, I heard my daddy
say, “Son, just be a man.
Go buy some land. Get married. Have children. Make a plan.”
I thought I met that someone. Her smile caught my eye.
But I rode off one evening, and never said goodbye.
Some other cowboys did it, got married, settled down.
I'd see another smile. There's always one more town,
Another Horse to Saddle, another hill to climb,
Another road to travel, another round-up time.
I'z always looking forward. No joy in looking back.
It seems like I have wandered, but I was on my track.
I know I made my choices. There's no one I can blame.
'Fi had to do it over, I'd do it just the same.
My pony's getting tired. The ground looks awful hard.
I can't see stars or moonlight. These beans sure taste like lard.
It's time to ride up yonder, where grass is thick and sweet,
The red sun warms my shoulders, and boots don't hurt my feet.
Another Horse to Saddle, and one more hill to climb.
Just one more road to travel. It's my last round-up time.
"earsie" photo by Terry Nash
photos ©Valerie Beard, Short Grass Studios
©Hobie Lynn Kopelke, Open Crown Productions
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