Cowboys of old once all the same
Almost any how~
They mostly did and lived the same
Their being sometimes seen even now~
A part of every real cowboy
He kept so deeply within~
Sometimes he would only answer
With a smile,a wink or a grin~
A cowboy how he loved his life
Out where he could feel free~
Just him , his horse and a bed roll
Upon some distant wide prairie~
He loved that starry night camp fire
His only roof the many stars that shine~
It was a part of cowboys of old
His own space , a life to him divine~
Old cowboys never like being controlled
Never stayed in one place too long~
Had their own brand of loneliness
This told in many of a song~
They loved those highest mountains
They loved the Vallie's low~
They loved the open plain wild flowers
They even loved the snow~
Sometimes a few would have a dog
That understood the cowboy way~
And all of them loved that trusty horse
Traveling mile for mile day after day~
Half never knew what they searched for
But they searched all the time it's so~
It was always waiting up ahead somewhere
And towards that unknown dream they'd go~
Every now n ag'en to venture
Slowly,shyly into town~
To remind himself of what he was not missing
Maybe to see what then was coming down~
But all old cowboys were almost the same
They had a thing about their own space~
One could write a book with a single look
Stories written on an old cowboys face~
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