Far from all the city strife,
With a bronco for my friend,
Many hours I'd ride the range,
Never mind the weather change,
I'd go riding down the trail
where coyotes howl and cattle roam,
where the skies are always blue,
where the friends are always true,
never more will I roam, going,
With the light of early dawn
I would roll my blanket up,
comes on that judgment day
and I'm heading for the race
to rest on the lone prairie
I will hear the angels sing
going home going home where
Howl, howl, and cattle roam,
where the skies are always blue,
where the friends are always true.
4.7
