(craig bickhardt/barry alfonso)

Hes not much to look at
A hard-working hand
Riding that western trail
His hats worn out
Hes tall and thin as a rail

And he dont say too much
In the fires glow
When the others are shooting the breeze
He stares at the stars
Hand on his chin
And they wonder what he sees

Its something to do with a woman
Down around abilene
Its long since over and done with
But even a cowboy can dream

Not that hes sorry
For the life he chose
Hes roamed to far for regrets
The longhorns have led him
cross thousands of miles
And into as many sunsets

When the silent nights
Give him room to think
Theres a face he cant shake from his mind
It makes him consider
What life would be life
If he were the settling kind

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