He walked again into the old saddle room
And he seen several old saddles there on a rail..
Oldest dry flaps like fifty year old chaps
And he sat smiling as he sat on a bale..
He thought about when they'd seen polish
And he knew it was simply so very long ago..
Reminded him of many a girl he once knew
Who thought she was so wonderful it's so..
But they too thought they'd live forever
Not once admitting how often she got sat..
Of all the cowboys over time she thought divine
Who came and went not removing boots or hat..
He'd been on the land all of his life droving
And always from daybreak until after dark..
Now just like these oldest driest saddles on the rail
They now looked more like a piece of stringy bark..
Back then so many came and went each time
And to them he was just a guy there on the spread..
As he sat looking at these old dry saddles thinking
That they were now worn out and some dead..
He never had a woman of his own over his time
Just worked since a young man all through life..
They were all so fine praising God ever so divine
Dressed in their unbuttoned shirts and tight jeans..
Selective memories and a love of country music
Every rodeo they took on the answer to their dreams..
He sat on the bale and rolled a smoke tipping his hat
Thinking were would they all be now he'd wonder true..
But he knew for sure ten kids with different fathers
They'd be like these old saddles drying as old saddles do..
He was still a fit man and working the same as always
As he had done all of his what seemed longest life..
And as he sat and enjoyed his rolled up tobacco
Thank God he thought he'd never taken one for his wife..
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