Wishing Chair - Open Range lyrics

Let's sit on a fence and talk about it Watching the clouds rolling by I'm just not cut out for a city life I need a pure western sky Oh that open range Is my middle name And I'm hell bent for leather in my soul All your time frames And your mind games Gonna go where the four winds blow Don't you think it's kind of funny When people say they own the land The gra** and trees don't recognize it The earth cries I own who I am Oh that open range Is my middle name And I'm hell bent for leather in my soul All your time frames And your mind games Gonna go where the four winds blow Saw the rodeo at Cheyenne They wear those fancy chaps and spurs I'll take a feather in my hat band And the stars above on night herd Oh that open range Is my middle name And I'm hell bent for leather in my soul All your time frames And your mind games Gonna go where the four winds blow I had a dream it was morning The wires and fences were gone It's like a family reunion And all creation sang along Oh that open range Is my middle name And I'm hell bent for leather in my soul All your time frames And your mind games Sing me ride an old paint when I go