He rides hard and he ropes fast...
He takes a nap and he dreams alot,
His breakfast is early and he works late,
Till napping beneath a pale blue sky.
He loves the rain,
But he hates the wind,
He stands tall, then he sinks low,
He's ridden down a lonesome trail.
He sings to his lady (dressed in white)
with soft sweet scented perfume,
serenading his silvery blue moon,
(her singing him a favorite love song).
He lives with a tune, heard every night,
He plays a guitar as others gather by,
He whistles a song so dear to his heart,
But, he just clings to a blazing campfire.