Poem by Ray Burleigh
Sounds of sleighbells and cowbells
can be heard for miles on the trail
letting us cowboys know it's Senna Hoss
his buckboard is mighty frail
Stops are miles and miles apart
delivering happy tunes and tobacco
in return getting moonshine or cowboy coffee
cheering the cowboys before they go wacko
Sitting around the fire swapping tales
playing guitar, laughing and singing
drinking plenty of corn whiskey and coffee
all wishing they were in town a swinging.
Cowboys' Christmas like others, is a once a year
sit back, get together happy affair
cowboys sometimes get loud and rowdy
all trying to get their equal share
Life on the range can be very lonely
swapping long shifts keeping a watchful eye
for cattle rustlers, robbers and Indians
never knowing what appears from the dark sky.
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