Written by Dick Roberts
With a worn in old cowboy hat,
Planted firm on his head.
Scuffed up old riding boots,almost worn through the tread
Wrinkles like maps,cut deep into his hands.
Tells of places he’s been,across these wide lands.
A blue dog named Teddy,Stands loyal at his side.
As he rolls up a smoke,There’s a twinkle in his eye.
The old roan mare stands ready,For the cowboy to ride.
Once again they’re mustering,the snow melt has dried.
He sits tall in the saddle,He stands tall in life.
He’s dog’s and he’s ponies,Mostly keep him from strife.
He’s rough but he’s honest,he’s tough, but he cares.
A soul made of gold,with his heart, he will share.
One day they will call him,to come home again.
To tend to the pastures,Upon the heavenly range.
Where there are no fences,no droughts that prevail.
No dust storms, no floods,no more bank forced sales.
As the sun is slowly setting,he beds the old roan down.
Huddles the fire with teddy,as night birds make their sound.
From an old tin cup he sips,as he looks into the sky.
Stars are in the millions,always guiding him through life.
May the rain always beat his thirst,may the sun warm his soul,
May the grass rise above his spurs
May his life always be whole.