Old Time Buckaroo - Play MP3

Old Time Buckaroo

 

The big-house on the hillside, with it's columns painted white;

Girl with her golden hair, framed in window light.

Cattle on the open range, there's starlight on the dew.

Just a dream from the memory, of an old time buckaroo.

 

There's whiskey on the table, the old dog's layin' there.

The cards are cut and dealt to a cowboy in the chair.

Logs are on the fire; Smoke is up the flu.

Just a dream from the memory, of an old time buckaroo.

 

Chorus:

But he's laying in the cradle, he's all wore out by time.

The whiskey and the weather, oh, they haven't been to kind.

Riding crazy bronc's near broken him in two.

And he don't regret a minute being an old time buckaroo.

 

The gate it opens wide as he hollers out lets go.

As him and that old buckskin, they put on quite a show.

The crowd it roars with thunder as he tips his hat to Sue.

Just a dream from the memory of an old time buckaroo.

 

He's riding down a trail, it's a lazy afternoon.

The breeze is sighing softly, and he'll be in camp real soon.

There's a picture in his wallet, and he's thinkin' just of you.

Just a dream from the memory, of an old time buckaroo.

 

Chorus:

 

Now he's back up in the saddle, He's drifting through the shade

It's bright up in the distance; sunlight streaming through the glade.

He breaks out in the open, and his grin's a mile wide

She's riding there beside him, his angel and his child.

 

Big-house on the hillside, with it's columns painted white,

Girl with her golden hair, framed in window light.

Cattle on the open range, there's starlight on the dew.

Just a little bit of heaven for an old time buckaroo.

 

Tag end.

 

© 1990 by ~Francis (Frank) H. Peters~


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