This the last cowboy song:
The end of a hundred year waltz.
The voices sound sad as they're singin' along.
Another piece of america's lost.
He rides the feed lots, clerks in the markets,
On weekends sellin' tobacco and beer.
And his dreams of tomorrow, surrounded by fences,
But he'll dream tonight of when fences weren't here.
He blazed the trail with lewis and clark,
And eyeball to eyeball, old wyatt backed down.
He stood shoulder to shoulder with travis in texas.
And rode with the 7th when custer went down
This the last cowboy song:
The end of a hundred year waltz.
The voices sound sad as they're singin' along.
Another piece of america's lost.
Remmington showed us how he looked on canvas,
And louis lamour has told us his tale.
Me and johnny and waylon and kris sing about him,
And wish to God we could have ridden his trail.
The old chisolm trail is covered in concrete now,
They truck it to market in fifty foot rigs.
They roll by his markings and don't even notice,
Like living and dying was all he ever did.
This the last cowboy song:
The end of a hundred year waltz.
The voices sound sad as they're singin' along.
Another piece of america's lost.
This the last cowboy song:
The end of a hundred year waltz.
The voices sound sad as they're singin' along.
Another piece of america's lost.
