There is a young cowboy, he lives on the range. His horse and his cattle are his only companions. He works in the saddle and sleeps in the canyons. Waiting for summer, his pastures to change.
Slipping away, what can I say, won't you stay inside me, month of May?. And hold on to me golden days, slipping away. Sunshine on my wall to keep my mind on the things I'm saying.