Countin’
June 1, 2015
We often get caught up In the countin’ that we do We count cows, an’ bales, an’ acres Bills – too many, bucks – too few Should more often count
We often get caught up In the countin’ that we do We count cows, an’ bales, an’ acres Bills – too many, bucks – too few Should more often count
Across the Queensland border line The mobs of cattle go; They travel down in sun and shine On dusty stage, and slow. The drovers, riding slowly on To let the
I am going to ride the wind When it’s blowing hard and strong. I’ll jump on its back And we’ll follow a track Where clouds go loping along. I am
All the boy could do is stare at the rope hanging there Off the cowboy’s saddle horn Stripes of red and white, with the coils all dun up tight Seemed
Dashing across Chilcotin plains, Clasping firmly onto the reins. Feeling the wind of hot summer air, Caressing his face and blowing his hair. Hearing the sound of thundering hooves, Of
There is a man you hear about, most every place you go His holdings are in Texas, and his name is Diamond Joe He carries all his money, in a
A bright eyed filly with a lean grey mare, Sway backed pot gutted and old. That had weathered years of mosquitoes And pawed snow in the winter cold, Followed a
I noticed just this morning There’s a difference in the air. Can’t quite put my finger on it But I know that it is there. Wind is blowing, brisk, as
Well I’ve got a story to tell you I think it’s something that should be told Some people think that you’re going to lose it Just because you’re starting to
’Twas the night before Christmas and out on the ranch The pond was froze over and so was the branch. The snow was piled up belly-deep to a mule. The
An old cowboy went riding out one dark and windy day Upon a ridge he rested as he went along his way When all at once a mighty herd of
We have a small town cemetery On a little hill out on the prairie And all our folks are buried there, But there’s no such thing as perpetual care So
