A Cowboy Horse Dream

I am an old cowboy, way out on the plains It's a hundred and ten, don't remember the

rains And my horse is so tired, and his knees look

Struggles to carry me up hills anymore And we can't find no water and the grasses

are gone Rivers are dry, all we feel is the sun

So we're walkin' to Portland, where the weather is mild I hope my horse makes it the next

two hundred miles Where we thought there was water, there was

none up ahead And I'll get on his back now, as he hangs

down his head so we keep on our walking but he's stumbling more at least it's

downhill now gets cool around four but the vultures are circling and the

The wild dogs ain't shy, might not make the mornin' say cowboy goodbyes.

I'm a-walkin' to Portland, through a cool August night.

Get us to water, 'fore it gets light.

I am an old cowboy, riding up through the gorge on the back of my horse, just save this

once more.

We are both so damn tired, but we no longer fear, just a few short flat miles now to a

hay bale and beer. Where we'll hang up the saddle, put the gun in a drawer, pick up that

old banjo, buy food from a store. So we're walking to Portland, where the pastures are

green. To chill out our days, as was always our dream. Yeah to chill out our days, is a cowboy horse dream.