My father rode a horse
And carried a gun;
He swapped for a living
And fought for his fun—
I remember his spurs
Agleam in the sun.
My father was always
Going somewhere—
To rodeo, market,
Or cattleman’s fair—
My father rode a horse
And carried a gun;
He swapped for a living
And fought for his fun—
I remember his spurs
Agleam in the sun.
My father was always
Going somewhere—
To rodeo, market,
Or cattleman’s fair—