Cowboy Line

Here's one for you today boys....

Cowboy Line

He bought himself the weanlin’ colt,
Fall of ’33.
Deep sorrell with a flaxen mane,
Just as pretty as he could be.

When he swung up to the middle,
That very first time,
Pretty was the very last thing,
That was on his mind.

This bronc here was a waspy one,
At first light every day,
But he pitched his rope on him first,
When catchin’ cows for pay.

He run a yearlin’ bull one day,
Across a prairie flat,
And ole sorrelly he was never lost,
Just knockin’ out his tracks.

When everyone else pulled up,
Just hoping to see a wreck,
All they saw was ole sorrelly logged off,
And he just had his hat tipped back.

He could pull just like a switch engine,
I mean locomotive style,
And although sometimes things got tight,
They never got too wild.

For 15 total years or so,
They carried on this way.
Even when the grain was short,
And there wasn’t quite enough hay.

Then one day someone caught ole sorrel,
And led him from his pen.
The led him right to a part of town,
Where he had never been.

These last few years he’d had a break,
From workin’ everyday.
Seems he seldom saw his master,
In that early light of day.

When the boys hitched him up,
It seemed ole sorrelly knew,
What his last job would be….
He knew just what to do.

He pulled that old black wagon,
Out to the edge of town.
Real slow, smooth and even,
His head the whole way down.

I think he knew just one last time,
He carried his old boss.
And people can say just what they want to,
I think ole sorrelly felt the loss.

He lived out the rest of his days,
In kinda cowboy lore.
The boys never figured out why he did what he did…..
He’d never pulled a wagon before.

We could all be so lucky to,
Once in our life find….
One thing that stayed loyal to the end…..
The end of our cowboy line.

copyright 2002 Justin Walker