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| old cowboy ways |
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| Daddy was a ranch hand, he rode on
the range Mending down fences, rounding up strays Yes, he rode on the range and counted his blessings The land and the sky and his old cowboy ways He said to me, son, I don't have much to offer But big sky above you the rest of your days Mama grew a garden, she had a green thumb Her flowers would blossom come rain or come sun She'd stop to pick irises, tulips and daffodils Gathering blossoms in rainbow bouquets She said to me, son, I don't have much to offer May colors surround you the rest of your days BRIDGE Now I am older with a son of my own I tell him what grandma and grandpa had known Living is hardly according to plan You get what you need and you do what you can Keep your eyes open, maybe you'll see There is more than one trail to the man you can be Now I'm riding the range and counting my blessings The land and the sky and my old cowboy ways And I stop to pick flowers when mending down fences Gathering blossoms in rainbow bouquets Yes, I'm riding the range and rounding up strays Where irises, tulips, and daffodils grow I say to my son, I don't have much to offer But big sky above you and rainbows below |
Old Cowboy Ways |