JUST A THINKING

Well, the other day while riding the line, I was thinking,
with all this here wire there just ain't no open range any more.
I reckon that the old west the way it was is really shrinking.
Blue and me get tired of just riding in squares mending fences.

Heck! I spend most nights sleeping in a bed out in the bunkhouse.
Sometime I dream of the nights under the stars in the sky.
Oh sure! There were time I would complain about the dirt and rain,
but I reckon I miss the sound of the old coyote's lonely cry.

Well the boys in the bunkhouse spend their time kid me along.
Their jokes and laughter are most of the time at my expense.
They holler "Hey old timer don't you know your time is gone,
you and your old nag are a dying breed, your time has passed."

Well I reckon that what they say is true, so I'm stuck riding fence.
No more Chuck wagon grub or cattle drives, but I don't really care
I just hope Old Blue and I die out here mending this here wire,
Cause I never did cotton to riding the porch in a rocking chair.

---RJ