The life that he has chosen is horns and hide and hoof
And a blanket of a million stars each night provides his roof.
Some nights he dreams, of home and hearth and wife.
Sometimes the cowboy way can be a lonely way of life.
But he's up before the sun again.
The red sky speaks of rain.
He draws his slicker from his bedroll, for he knows what lies in store.
He hits the saddle of his wild eyed mount as the storm begins to roar.
From Cookie's stash he grabs a sinker and heads toward the herd.
With clacking horns and bellows, from their slumber they have stirred.
A lightning flash and thunder crash, and in a panic they all run.
It's more excitement than a cowboy wants, stampedes are never fun.
No city man could handle this kind of life you see.
But in it the cowboy revels, for the cowboy knows he's