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