There's a full moon tonight on the prairie. And a memory just rode into view. Of a boy, a buckskin, and an ol' spangler dawg. In the hills where the blue bonnets grew.
There's a blizzard comin' on, how I'm wishin' I was home. For my pony's lame and he can't hardly stand. Listen to that Norther sigh, if we don't get home we'll die.
In the southern part of Texas, east and west of El Paso. Where the mighty Franklin Mountains guard the trail to Mexico. There's a new made widow crying and a hearse a-rolling slow.
You need a man to get lost it. With a heart big enough to roam. No more fences for you to look through. With your heart caught in a strangle hold. I've got a love full of wide open spaces.
It's good to hear your voice after all this time. I've been told I'm hard to find. It's raining here but I'm keeping dry. And for me that's doing good.
Boots and a buckle jukebox and a bottle. Old rodeo cowboy its part of the draw. He dreams of tomorrow winnin' the next show. Till he looks in the mirror that hangs on the wall.
When I was just a very young lad. I walked up and I told my dad. A bareback rider's what I wanna be. I want the whole world to know about me. . In the rodeo arena I'll take my stand.
I went to see the preacher. To teach me how to pray. He looked at me and smiled. Then that preacher turned away. . Said, "If you want to tell him something.
He was born and raised in Oklahoma. His blood lines were white and Cherokee. His daddy owned a ranch outside of Clairmore. Where he learned to ride before the age of three.
I was snappin' out broncs at the Old Flyin' U. At forty a month a plum good buckaroo. Well, the boss comes around and he says, hey my lad. Well, you look pretty good ridin' horses that's bad.
I was snappin out broncs at the Old Flyin' U. At fourty a month a plum good buckaroo. Well the boss came around and he says. Hey my lad well you look pretty good ridin' horses that's bad.
Well I grew up in the shadow of the Rockies in the grand old West yes sir I did. And dammed if we didn't have us a bunch of fun back when we was kids.
The road ain't looked this good to me. In a couple of months or so. I've been breaking ground, heading down. A hard road to hoe. . I've been farming dreams but I ain't seen.
Dont put a bridle on a bull. Hell never do what you want him to. Dont put a bridle on a bull. Hell just take you for a fool. And if you take him by his horns.
Let the beer bottle. Rattle on my pistol. On the seat of my Chevy pick up truck. And I'm taking these gravel roads. As fast as my truck will go. I'm running like a scared white tail buck.
Its the same old story. Just different lie. You at my door knocking. in the middle of the night. . I'd give my heart to you. when I know all along. You'll take and throw it like a stone.
(Vic Chesnutt). we will remain ignorant. incapable of knowing. insoluble is the problem. curiosity, sleeping. killed the caterpillar. curiosity, empty.
(Vic Chesnutt). I was shivering, I'll admit it. I had nothing better to do. except to wheeze my lazy wheeze. "Bernadette, where are you". "Bernadette, where are you".
Well, when I was young. My momma read me nursery rhymes beside my bed. And though they sounded mighty fine. They made no sense to me. . And now that I am all grown up.
I should go home, but I'm not sure I have one. The bottle holds the first place in my life. I live out of control, in smoky places. And I'm ashamed of how it hurts my wife.