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Gene Carrington


The Last Real Cowboy


Jeds' collie lay beside the bunkhouse door
Waitin' like she always did for Jed to do his chores
His battered saddle leaned against the pole corral
Where Jeds' old pony dozed, fightin' flies off with his tail

He?d give no more advise about the kind of men to hire
They?d miss his yarns, when they sat, by the evening roundup fires
They?d miss his lonesome songs, about his old weekend loves
And his way of provin? every day, he could still keep up

And his rusty spurs lay on the bunkhouse floor
By his old hat and six-gun, he won't be needin' anymore
His bible on a table, by his bed
'Ol Jed, the last real cowboy, was dead

Jed taught green, young cowhands, how to throw a rope
How to gentle down wild horses, and respect their older folks
He quoted from the bible, and taught them how to pray
Jed showed them that a cowboy, worshipped God a special way

They took Jed out and buried him, on a grassy mesa top
By a little creek that runs dry, when the Texas sun gets hot
His funeral was all cowboy, men that called 'ol Jed their friend
Jed was the last real cowboy, he rode a lifetime for the brand

And his rusty spurs lay on the bunkhouse floor
By his old hat and six-gun, he won't be needin' anymore
His bible on a table, by his bed
'Ol Jed, the last real cowboy, was dead

'Ol Jed the last real cowboy was dead
?Ol Jed the last real cowboy was dead

© All Rights Reserved-Gene Carrington-BMI Writer


[This message has been edited by blakeh (edited 09-02-2002).]