I sat across from an old cowpoke,
He looked at me, and I at he,
And then I said, old son, where have you been,
And what did you see.
His old grey eyes looked me over, and came his reply,
Down from the Brazos, the Pecos, and the Red,
Up to the Snake and down 'long the Rio Grande,
With all my pards, most now long dead.
From the mountains and deserts,
All across Texas, and all the flat land,
I jingled some horses, an' I punched cattle,
For most near every brand.
I've only got one more wish says he,
With a voice most steady and strong,
Make me a promise, and swear it so,
The last roundup is nigh and I ain't got long.
Take from me my saddle and spurs,
Sing me a song of joy, I need no dirge,
Scatter my ashes to the four winds,
Bury my bones not in the cold earth.
And I'll be riding once again,
With my chums that I knew from afore,
We'll ride the last roundup up in the sky,
And he closed his eyes and spoke no more.
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