Away out West in Crosby County
Near the foothills of the Plains
Where the golden sunset lingers
Over the cap rock endless chains

Where the stately lonesome canyons
Echo sounds by far and near
As you glide along it's cavern
Sparkling water cold and clear

And the green grass covered valleys
Stretch away from hill to hill
Grazed by White Faced Cattle
Wondering over the range at will

You will hear the Coyote calling
And you will learn to love his cry
In a land of silent wonder
Beneath an Azure Texas Sky

On the fresh crisp air of morning
Long before the break of day
You will hear the old cook calling
All you Gents come out the hay

And upon the glowing embers
 Is an old smoked coffee pot
And a skillet on the pot rack
Filled with beef and bread pones hot

Over on the East Horizon
Peeks the first red streaks of day
And It's mellow rays are shed
On the waterproof tarpaulins
Which contains the cowboy's bed

By the time the meal is over
And your tarp is rolled up well
The remuda has been wrangled
And is in the rope corral

And when the outside men have gathered
All the cattle from the Plains
Then they drive them all together
And around them take the stand
And the owners ride among them
Laying clain by Mark and Brand

Soon a blazing fire is burning
And the branding irons are red
Then you see the Cowboy swinging
His rope around and round his head

Around the yearlings hind feet
And he sniffs and makes a Brand
Who is sized by trained and active flankers
That will stretch him on the ground

This is for hours hot and weary
Each one sticking to his part
Roping, Branding, Marking, Flanking
Sometimes until dark

But the Cowboy's duty
Often holds him overtime
But he receives no accommodation
Or excepts an extra dime
Just a cup of old black java
And a plate of bread and meat
Is his extra sum and total
Until his task is quite complete

Now the Summer Season is over
And you will hear no Cowboy's tales
Around the campfire for supper
For the Outfit on the trail

The Old Night Horse is saddled
For his ride so long and hard
And the boys in sight are ready
For the time to stand their guard

Steady now he rides the Circle
Stars are shining over head
And he lets his roaming fancy
Drift away so far apart
To a fair and radiant Maiden
Who abides within his heart

Suddenly a noise as a Wolf the bushes shake
Every hoof arise together
As the leaders make a break
The Cowboy is awakened
And his long Stake rope is seized
And in his saddle leaps

Swift over the sage and cactus
Trying hard the course to change
Soon the heard is thrown to Milling
On a bed ground new and strange
And the stampede soon forgotten
If there is no loss of Cattle

In the morning when the trail herd
Has been started on the route
Each man has his place of duty
And is there without a doubt
From the wrangler to the Trail Boss
Every thing is so complete
And the waves reflect the beauty
Of the White Faced Texas Steer

There is no other business
That is followed in he West
That will equal cattle raising
When you put it to the test
And the cowboy leaves its Country
And from its border roams
But the Humble Old Chuck Wagon
He considers it his home