Blue eyes and freckles neath a white cowboy hat. His two bestest friends are his dog and his cat. He's one of the good guys it's plain to see. Shore enough cowboy though he's only three.
There's a full moon tonight on the prairie. And a memory just rode into view. Of a boy, a buckskin, and an ol' spangler dawg. In the hills where the blue bonnets grew.
One shot from a lawman's gun. My father paid for the things he done. Mama got old when she was 31. I was born alone, I'm William's son. . Back and forth to the foster homes.
HE BEEN WALKIN' CROSS TOWN. SHIRT TAIL IN THE WIND. OLD CROW FLYIN' AROUND IN HIS HEAD. WEARS A HALF CRAZY GRIN. . ROCK N ROLL. DRIVIN' WHEEL. DOWN FROM THE VALLEY AND UP FROM THE HILL.
There's a blizzard comin' on, how I'm wishin' I was home. For my pony's lame and he can't hardly stand. Listen to that Norther sigh, if we don't get home we'll die.
In a caf just off I-65 I seen a man. and a woman and a baby child. they were laughing,. smiled at me when they went to pay. . And the way she was talking.
In the southern part of Texas, east and west of El Paso. Where the mighty Franklin Mountains guard the trail to Mexico. There's a new made widow crying and a hearse a-rolling slow.
Twenty-one days out on the road,. the van broke down in a foot of snow.. Don't even know where the hell we are,. the batteries gone and the phone won't charge..
You need a man to get lost it. With a heart big enough to roam. No more fences for you to look through. With your heart caught in a strangle hold. I've got a love full of wide open spaces.
It's good to hear your voice after all this time. I've been told I'm hard to find. It's raining here but I'm keeping dry. And for me that's doing good.
The sun's goin' down on me. Thoughts of her keep haunting me. Desperation's taking hold. My hands are on the steering wheel. But my heart's back in Louisville.
Boots and a buckle jukebox and a bottle. Old rodeo cowboy its part of the draw. He dreams of tomorrow winnin' the next show. Till he looks in the mirror that hangs on the wall.
All the memories of our good time. Keep crowdin' in my mind. But I'm counting on the bad times. To help me leave you behind. . Even though I said it's over.
When I was just a very young lad. I walked up and I told my dad. A bareback rider's what I wanna be. I want the whole world to know about me. . In the rodeo arena I'll take my stand.
I went to see the preacher. To teach me how to pray. He looked at me and smiled. Then that preacher turned away. . Said, "If you want to tell him something.
I wasn't stranded in the desert. I wasn't drifting out to sea. I was in no kind of danger. That would be the death of me. But when you took me in your arms.
RURAL ROUTE CHRIS KNIGHT. . Verse 1. I built a fire up on the hill; I sat in the woods and drank my fill. Talked to God all night, took another shot at setting me right.
He was born and raised in Oklahoma. His blood lines were white and Cherokee. His daddy owned a ranch outside of Clairmore. Where he learned to ride before the age of three.
I was snappin' out broncs at the Old Flyin' U. At forty a month a plum good buckaroo. Well, the boss comes around and he says, hey my lad. Well, you look pretty good ridin' horses that's bad.
I was snappin out broncs at the Old Flyin' U. At fourty a month a plum good buckaroo. Well the boss came around and he says. Hey my lad well you look pretty good ridin' horses that's bad.