| Seven hundred head of cattle on an old forgotten trail
|
| Six cowboys and one old man in another day of hell
|
| Chuckwagon lagging behind from the strain of a broken wheel
|
| The only thing to look forward to was a campfire and a meal
|
| Asleep beneath an open sky with just the stars above their heads
|
| A saddle for a pillow and some sagebrush for a bed
|
| Waking up tomorrow was merely done by chance
|
| Back when the west was wild and cowboys didn’t dance
|
| When cowboys didn’t dance
|
| Didn’t wear designer shirts
|
| When their hearts were filled with memories
|
| Their bodies filled with hurt
|
| They would sit around the campfire and exchange a piercing glance
|
| Back when the west was really wild and cowboys didn’t dance
|
| More coffee from an old tin cup, more sweat upon the brow
|
| Another day of chasing that same old lonely cow
|
| With every new horizon began a brand new day
|
| Thirteen hundred miles to go as they slowly made their way
|
| Across the plains of Texas and through the Colorado snow
|
| Final destination Blackfoot, Idaho
|
| When cowboys didn’t dance
|
| Didn’t wear designer shirts
|
| When their hearts were filled with memories
|
| Their bodies filled with hurt
|
| They would sit around the campfire and exchange a piercing glance
|
| Back when the west was really wild and cowboys didn’t dance
|
| When cowboys didn’t dance
|
| Didn’t wear designer shirts
|
| When their hearts were filled with memories
|
| Their bodies filled with hurt
|
| They would sit around the campfire and exchange a piercing glance
|
| Back when the west was really wild and cowboys didn’t dance
|
| Seven hundred head of cattle on an old forgotten trail
|
| Five cowboys and one old man in another day of hell |