Artisto: | Buck Ramsey (English) |
Uzanto: | ralph estes |
Daŭro: | 130 sekundoj |
Komenca paŭzo: | 0 sekundoj |
Tononoma sistemo: | Ne definita |
Sakra: | |
Komentoj pri tabulaturo: | - |
At midnight, when the cattle are sleeping,
On my saddle I pillow my head
And up at the heavens lie peeping
From out of my cold grassy bed
Often and often I wondered,
At night when lying alone,
If every bright star way up yonder
Is a big peopled world like our own.
Are they worlds with their ranges and ranches?
Do they ring with rough-rider refrains?
Do the cowboys scrap there with Comanches .
And other Red Men of the plains?
Are the hills covered over with cattle
In those mystic worlds far, far away?
Do the ranch-houses ring with the prattle
Of sweet little children at play?
At night, in the bright stars up yonder,
Do the cowboys lie down to their rest?
Do they gaze at this old world and wonder
If rough riders dash over its breast?
Do they list to the wolves in the canyons?
Do they watch the night owl in its flight,
With their horses their only companions
While guarding the herd through the night?
break
In the east a great daylight is breaking
And into my saddle I swing
The cattle from sleep are awakening
The heaven thoughts from me take wing
The eyes of my bronco are flashing
Impatient, he pulls at the rein
Off round the herd I go dashing
A reckless cowboy of the plain