There's nothin' like a hearty meal
and a cup of strong coffee
to relax a group of ol cowhands,
after a hard day out on the trail,
Keeping those cattle movin',
Most folks don't tend to see us
as the philosophical kind;
But, I reckon there's just something bout
those silent skies above us
gatherin' round that roaring fire
that tends to make us look up and ponder,
staring out at the stars that go on and on
in the vast expanse of space.
A tale or two is spun to pass the time,
then the singing begins,
but it's not like you'd think,
Oh, no...It's that dadblamed
incessant chirping of the crickets
and the croaking of the frogs,
Sounds that're strangely comforting
as they echo in the silence of the night.
Finally, figgering there's to be no sleep,
Wisdom tells us not to fight it
we finally give in and join them.
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