Bury Me In My Truck

Bury Me In My Truck

I was digging of big ass hole for a man of the same name

When I took the SOB’s name in vain

I signed on at the Muddy Creek Ranch when I was 18

Yeah… I wasn’t what they wanted at the University

Now it’s fifty bucks a week… All the food a man can eat

A good horse and fine leather between your legs

A warm bunkhouse were the cowboys stay

All the poker at night you can play

And a hangover every lazy Sunday

A 44 Long colt Winchester and revolver

A few extra bucks when you brought in a cougar

Saturday night he drove us into Montello

To have a dancing, fighting, drinking rodeo

We took his 69 flatbed Ford to the farm store

And to feed the steers out in the winter storm

Didn’t have a radio or air-conditioning

That’s all worthless shit when you’re working

They say Cowboys don’t cry and they are right

Except the night his pregnant wife died

After that the only thing he could love

Was a damn fine horse and his flatbed truck

He got the flu in the winter of 92

And told me what I was supposed to do

Dig a hole big enough… For me and my flatbed truck

Use the hood for the headstone

Write it big and bold… In this hole is a royal ass hole

He had 1 million stories to tell

About chasing cows in blizzards from hell

He could drink Saturday night till sunrise

Then saddle up and check the fence line

He had no need for government officials

He had nothing in common with those ass holes

God bless flatbed fords and Nevada whores

High Desert Sky
Texas Style Songwriter
And Storyteller Poetry.
© Paul H. Keeler… A Cosmic Cowboy

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