"Open Range". ... verse by Stan

Open Range

That Mohammedan feller, old Omar, once said That he aimed for a tree an' some wine an' some bread. As for me, there is nothing I'd want to exchange For a string of peart hosses, the sun an' the range. When yo're restin' yore saddle an' you set on the ground With the clouds driftin' by an' the hills all around, All the troubles of life that you ride for a fall Fade across the horizon an' don't rile you a-tall.

All the mesa is drowsy an' the sunlight is strong An' the crickets an' locusts are singin' their song. The warmth of the desert spreads up plumb through yore boots As an old mesquite bush rests yore back with its roots. The cliffs on the reefs shine like jade an' like brass, All is silent but hosses abrowsin' on grass. An' the sorrows an' griefs of us humans seem strange When yo're wrapped in the calm of the wide open range.

Not a leaf on the blackbrush is movin' ontil A warm gentle chinook drifts on down from the hill. Then a sudden loud beller cuts the quiet in half By a cow gone to water that's acallin' her calf. The hosses look up as some colts gambol by An' start rollin' their noses with their ears held up high. No, old Omar can have all his bread an' his wineBut I'll take jest the open range country for mine.