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| Storm clouds are gatherin’ as I saddle ol’ Buck,
I’ll get that fence mended with speed an’ some luck Out here on the prairie, where land meets the sky, the lightnin’ can get fierce an’ strike too near by Storms come up quick an’ ya better seek shelter, rain, sleet, an’ hail make ya run helter-skelter Cattle get restless, they sometimes stampede, an’ ya need hardened rovers ridin’ drag an’ the lead Today I’ll be watchin’ them clouds o’re my head ‘cause storms on the praire are the worst, it’s been said So I pack up my gear, my slicker n’ such, slouch hat, an’ long coat, hope I won’t need ‘em much Tie a scarf ‘round my neck to keep out the dust case them dirt-devils twirl an’ kick up a fuss Its seven miles out, I’ll be workin’ all day, an’ I'd better make haste or there’ll be heck to pay The skies turnin’ dark, an’ clouds are now black as I ease on ol’ Buck, he snorts an’ rears back Guess he smells trouble out there on the range so we’d best get the job done for the weather does change We reach destination, I unload my stuff, I’m stretchin’ barbed wire over ground that is rough I work like the devil, I plum bust my tail, an’ just as I finish comes lightnin’ an’ hail I leap on ol’ Buck in my slicker an’ coat, the strikes are so close my heart’s in my throat We head for the ranch on the gallop an’ run, rain pours down my collar, it sure ain’t no fun But just as we reach the last mile of fence there’s fire in the sky, an’ smoke starts to commence Along the horizon flames are now leapin’, straight up my spine them chills come a creepin’ ‘Cause I see at the ranch the barn is on fire, men pass water pails an’ it’s my first desire To prod ol’ Buck faster as we come ‘round the bend, if we lose them prize mares it’ll be ‘most a sin Then, my heart starts to quiet, see the horses are free, they’re runnin’ about makes me holler with glee I jump off my mount an’ we all put it out, then slap each one’s back, whistle an’ shout That’s what we do out here on the range, we help one another, an’ to some that seems strange But Cowboys ‘ll survive, it’s part of our creed to buck bails, an’ ride herd, an’ do a good deed An’ I’m proud to be one, I won’t hang my head, ain’t no man I envy or life I’d choose instead. |
