Rope As I'm Riding

Rope As I’m Riding

Hurling rope as I’m riding this baffling terrain
On a ranch 18 miles north of Boonesboro
I’m the man in the saddle with the tight-fisted reins
Chasing moon calf and lune cattle on the loose again.
As soon as I’m up I’m back down
I’m as black and blue as Kentucky ground
I’m ready for a hole in that ground

When I hold you it’s possible, once again
To be a grown fool, responsible
Doing what he can

Well my brow-sweatin’ head can make my hat weigh like lead
From crotch down to my knees I feel blistered-bit
Well my **** is so sore I’ve given up keeping score
If this horse bucks once more she’ll be bridled whipped

Well my body wants bread
And all my daydreams take place in bed
Wish these boots I could shed

When I hold you it’s possible, once again
To be a grown fool, responsible
Doing what he can

Home, where horizons never die
Home, kitchen fire is cauldron high
Home!
I’m on time! Hear the chimes! Can hardly wait for that pie!

When the night’s dark descends to find the bloodhounds upwind
Near stalks the hairy tread of old grizzly-foot
With a taste for fine swine he’s got the pick of the sty
I hear the cries from bedside
At once I’m in pursuit
But even the hounds up ahead
Know the night’s chase always ends
With that bear fleed and fed

Let me hold you, if possible once again
I’ll be your grown fool, responsible till the end