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| Town and Country
Oh, a man gets mighty tired When he's workin' on the range, And sometimes he'd like to settle Down in comfort for a change, With an eight-to-five position And a cozy little home, With a car and boat and workshop, And no call to ever roam. For it's wearyin' to ride all day In rough and rocky ground, Just searchin' for some strayin' calf That's bound it won't be found! In bone deep cold or summer dust The work goes on the same, With steers to catch or move or brand, And colts to feed and tame. And by the time he hits the sack With muscles stiff and sore, He'd like to find a feather bed And sleep a week or more! But, oh, so very early, Before the night can end, He's up again and out again - Two miles of fence to mend. And after that there's stalls to clean, And then there's feed to haul; By half-past-noon he's gettin' mad - He'd like to chuck it all In favor of a place in town Without a cow in sight, Where a man can work a reg'lar day, And get his sleep at night! But even while he's thinkin' this And longin' for a change He's saddlin' up his horse again, To check the summer range. He'll take some salt up for the stock; He'll have to stay the night, So, bedroll - coffee - bacon - beans - And lash that mule pack tight. Still dreamin' of a city life, He takes off up the hill, And his horse is walkin' quiet, And the air is very still. For awhile he doesn't notice That his soul has settled down -- That his eyes are on the pines ahead And not turned back to town! |
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