More Than Just a Fable

 

I reckon you've heard what a cowboy is, so I'm prob'ly wastin' my time,
Siftin' here rememberin' a cowboy's life an' puttin' it down in rhyme.
But I guess I better do it, if only for myself,
Before there ain't no words 'bout us in the books upon yer shelf

A cowboy's led a rugged life, since he first chased through the brush;
Since he first heard a man scream out "stampede!" and heard the heated rush
Of a thousand sweaty, dusty steers come pounding down the plain,
Leavin' a cowboy dyin' in the mud, in the lightning and rain.

A cowboy's cared for his boss' cows most as much as he cared for his hide,
And there's many a boy who rode for the brand, and for that same brand he died.
He's spent thirsty miles searchin' the plain, lookin' for some lost calf,
He's broke his teeth on rocks in his beans, an' took it with a curse an' a laugh.

He's slept on the ground when caught out late, when autumn nights was chilly,
And his only mattress was his back, his only blanket was his belly.
He's pulled a mean bull from a river of mud, riskin' his own life,
An' watched 'em put good friends in the ground, while playin' the drum an' the fife.

They say a cowboy's good fer nothin', and he's 'bout played out his string,
An' he's "batchin' "because he missed his chance to give some girl a ring.
So he's gonna die out there alone, on some lonely windswept hill,
And no one will remember him.... But history always will.

He's made his bed in a lonely land, and forsaken any wife
To bring the beef to market, and so live out his life.
You folks at home, cuttin' up yer steak, there at the kitchen table,
Remember the man who rode for the brand--he's more than just a fable.

 

--Kirby Jonas April 8, 1995