A Cowboy Horse Dream (Walking To Portland)

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

all sore He struggles to carry me, up hills anymore

And we can't find no water

And the grasses are gone

The rivers are dry

All we feel is the sun

So we're walking to Portland

Where the weather is mild

I hope my horse makes it

Next 200 miles

Where we thought there was water

There was none up ahead, dare not get on his back 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, the vultures are circling, and the wild dogs ain't shy.

Might not make the mornin' to say cowboy goodbyes

And we're walkin' to Portland through a cool August night

He'll get us to water before it gets light I am an old cowboy ridin' up through the

gorge on the back of my horse who just saved us once more we are both so damn

tired but we no longer fear just a few short flat miles 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,

Chill out our days, as was always our dream, yeah to chill out our days, is a cowboy horse

dream.