been down 'un this range fer a lil bit too longpistol butt's greasy. glasses got fog.
it's hot out here, 'er maybe it's me
cuz i'm bullsin' that turget that i stuck t'that tree
ain't n'wun here t'keep me amused
'cept that dead squirrel who's head that i used
walkin' back home i follow my tracks
that i cut through the woods with m'big cowboy axe
cuz cowboys 'r restless 'n we like t'roam
but sometimes we jes' need a good rest at home
i come though the back cuz i built it that way
got a couple new fence posts i dug yesterday
i mosey around then stop by m'stable
gotta hang up my chaps 'n brush down maybel
'n i think thut m'horse got this look in 'er eyes
like she's almost a person. 'er maybe it's flies.
i coo to her gently in peek though th'windows
'n listen fer verses she sings when the wind blows
'n thur's m'house like she wuz whun i left 'er
empty inside 'n rough frum th'weather
but i can't jus' go inside thur anyway
cuz that evan pritts is in m'durway
