Tom: D
D
Some folks like the city
Em
Grass thats curried smooth and green
A7
Theaters and stranglin collars
D
Wagons run by gas olene
But for me its hawse and saddle
Em
Everyday without a change
A7
And the dessert sun a blazin
D
On a hundred miles of range
G A7
Just a ridin, a ridin
D Em
Dessert riplin in the sun.................
G Em
Mountains blue along the skyline
A7 D
I don't envey anyone when I'm riden
When my feet is in my stirrups
Em
And my hawse is on the bust
A7
With his hooves a flashin lightnin
D
In a cloud of golden dust
And the bawl-in of the cattle
Em
Is a com-in down the wind
A7
Then a finer life than riden
D
Would be mighty hard to find
G A7
Just a ridin, a ridin
D Em
Spittin long cracks thru the air.............
G Em
Stirrin up a baby cyclone
A7 D
Rippin up the prickly pear when I'm ridin
I don't need no art exhibits
Em
When the sunset does her best
A7
Painting ever-lasting glory
D
On the moun-tains to the west
And your opry sounds so foolish
Em
When the night-bird starts his tune
A7
And the desserts silver mounted
D
By the touches of the moon
G A7
Just a ridin, a ridin
D Em
Who can envy kings and czars..............
G Em
When the coyotes down the valley
A7 D
Are a singin to the stars when i'm ridin
When my last long trail is ended
Em
And my final bacons curled
A7
And the last great roundups finished
D
At the home ranch of the world
I don't want no harps nor halos
Em
Robes nor other dressed up things
A7
Just let me ride the starry ranges
D
On a spotted horse with wings
G A7
Just a ridin, a ridin
D Em
Nothin I'd like half so well..............
G Em
As a roundin up the sinners
A7 D
That have wondered out of hell and a ridin,
Just a ridin
