~ Learning to Cowboy…

He grew one of them bushy mustaches
like Sam Elliot wears under his nose
Bought him some fancy duds from Cabela’s
sure looked spiffy in his Buckaroo clothes

Alligator skin boots and silver spurs
thought he looked like all them real cowboys did
Added chaps and ten gallon Stetson hat
and called himself the Kansas City Kid

He’d got him a Palomino horse that
he didn’t have a darn clue how to ride
And a beat up old red Ford pickup truck
with a blue eyed dog to be by his side

He packed up and headed to Montana
from his home in the woods of Missouri
Said he was fixin to be a cowboy
and the best anyone would ever see

He rattled that old truck to Montana
it conked out right there in front of the ranch
He said he wanted to learn to cowboy
if the boss seen fit to give him a chance

Well the boss brought him out to the bunkhouse
told all us cowboys that his name was Tim
Said he wants to be a cowboy you see
so show him the ropes and take care of him

I asked him what he knew about branding
could he stick an iron to a cow’s rump
He said he would probably be alright
if I’d be kind enough to show him once

Well can you at least ride that horse of yours
to cut out a heifer or throw your rope
That boy looked at me straight into my eyes
Gave me a slight grin then shook his head “nope”

Think you might be able to break a bronc
that has spent its whole life out running wild
“Well I was in a real mean sheep bustin
back in Missouri when I was a child”

What about fixin up supper vittles
I might be able to use me a cook
“Pretty sure I can do a decent meal
as long as I have some kinda cookbook”

Well I got me these here bulls need cutting
and a short stretch of fence that you could mend
Can’t be that hard to cut a bull he says
if you would just show me how to begin

That was twenty years ago boss hired Tim
cause there was something in him he could see
Tim spent all that time learning to cowboy
and became the best there would ever be

~ For Free…

Only a dime a dozen for these broken dreams
a free wooden nickel with each pack of lies
a jar of hoodwinks, flimflams and befuzzles
a bucket of lost hope and a box of how time flies
a Brooklyn bridge, a few penniless thoughts
next to some wasted time and that mirror and smoke
some dirt-cheap hooks, lines and sinkers
a bunch of fake smiles and a couple pigs in a poke
some bamboozles and a few hornswoggles
a pile of ashes from some bridges I’ve burned
a sows ear, some silver thread and a gold needle
a silk purse filled with the lessons I never could learn

~ Feeling Okay…

My blood pressure is up
cholesterol is too
I have a heart-beat that is quite erratic
My blood sugar reads high
LDL is too low
the scale says that my weight is still pathetic

My hearing is near gone
one eye is almost blind
my doctor informed me with a slight chortle
Well now Jerry, my friend
at least you are not dead
but remember that you are not immortal

So here’s another pill
if you take it you’ll feel
just a little bit more like you did before
But the best thing for you
would be to take a long walk
and leave all the ice cream and pie at the store


~ Where the Cowboys Live…


There’s only so many ways I can write a song
about a cowboy riding his horse cross the range
Are there any new words I can use to describe
the rugged mountains that tower over the plains

What else can I say about them icy cold rivers
that rapidly flows down from a snow covered peak
Or the beauty of a simple life just living
in a line shack right next to a slow running creek

To tell you the feeling after a hard days ride
the warmth of the camp roll that I made for a bed
The sight of a full moon rising over the hill
the cattle standing still and my belly well fed

Is there another way to express how I feel
bout all them stars a shinin’ up there in the sky
Or about how nature lulls me to sleep each night
with the howl of a coyote or a night hawk’s cry

How many more stanzas can it possibly take
until you understand what a glorious sight
Seeing all them old cowboys that you call your friend
telling jokes and stories round the campfire at night

Heck, I suppose it don’t matter what rhymes I use
or trying to find some new words for me to give
You ain’t never gonna know lest you come out here
to the tall grass and live the way the cowboys live

~ Just Another Cowboy…

Riding out among the tall grass and sage
I came on a pile of old cowboy’s bones
No grave was dug and there was no marker
to say who it was that died here alone

I wonder if when his final light blinked
was there someone who held his memory
or was he just a lonley old cowboy
who roamed o’er this vast Montana prairie

Did he have a woman he left behind
to shed a tear or cry out in sorrow
were there any children who might want to
carry his name into their tomorrow

Or maybe he had folks back in the east
Who hadn’t heard from him in many years
where his mamma mourned her son every night
praying for him through eyes filled up with tears

Whoever he was will never be known
so I unmounted and dug him a grave
I wrapped his bones up in my camp blanket
on a bended knee a prayer I gave

Lord would you please watch over this man’s soul
as he rides your herd through eternity
Where the grass is green and the water’s sweet
Cause he’s just another cowboy like me