He's not much to look at A hard-working hand Riding that western trail His hat's worn out He's tall and thin as a rail
And he don't say too much In the fire's glow When the others are shooting the breeze He stares at the stars Hand on his chin And they wonder what he sees
Its something to do with a woman Down around abilene It's long since over and done with But even a cowboy can dream
Not that he's sorry For the life he chose He's roamed to far for regrets The longhorns have led him 'cross thousands of miles And into as many sunsets
When the silent nights Give him room to think There's a face he can't shake from his mind It makes him consider What life would be life If he were the settling kind
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