I miss the smell of a good working saddle
My old contract poly with a four inch pad~
Those saddle bags and my old saddle blankets
Love all my memories of the good times I've had~
Miss those shady tree cuppers from a boiling billy
Talking about life with campfire smoke in my eyes~
How I miss all those sheep and stud cattle back then
And would you believe me I even miss the flies~
I don't miss riding horses in wet jeans
Don't miss riding through land in bog~
But I do miss the early mornings kiss
Having a cup of morning tea sitten on a log~
I miss all the great working dogs I've had
Roping and working out there on the spread~
I miss feeling like I've earned my pay
And after the day fades I miss a stockman's bed~
Some memories just won't fade away
I still can smell all that and the hay~
Been there done that but would love to do it again
But now I guess ,, I'd have to go back a ways~
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