| He might have needed a longer look
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| He might have read an old Tschiffely’s book
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| The truth will come with ten thousand miles in the saddle
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| He’s seen a few good years
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| Between criollo ears
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| And all he knows is the trail goes on and on
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| He’s the only one I know
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| Pure as the driven yayo
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| Drifting past the ghosts of Mancha and Gato
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| He’s stacked a few good hopes
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| From the Andean eastern slopes
|
| And all he knows is the trail goes on and on
|
| And he’s the only long rider I know
|
| And he’s the only long rider I know
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| I’d kinda like to take his place
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| Issuing a long-reined equine grace
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| Saddle tramping the world on the wind like a stranger
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| He’s he’d a few good tears
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| Between criollo ears
|
| And all he knows is the trail goes on and on
|
| And he’s the only long rider I know
|
| And he’s the only long rider I know
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| I think I seen him in the second row
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| At some forgotten UK show
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| And god knows that’s a long long way from the saddle
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| The whispering that he hears
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| Between criollo ears
|
| And all he knows is the tale goes on and on
|
| It goes on and on
|
| And he’s the only long rider I know
|
| He’s the only long rider I know
|
| Yeah, he’s the only long rider I know
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| He’s the only long rider I know |