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A Cowboy in Heaven
By Billy Applegate
His Church is a prairie,
his altar a campfire,
his hymnal is lines from songs he recalls
his Mama singin' when he was a child.
What would a cowboy
do up in Heaven?
What kind of range would he ride?
He ain't done nothin' that can't be forgiven.
He's just too full of stubborn pride.
What kind of fences would he be mendin'?
What kind of cattle would he drive?
The work that he does before his life is endin'
is all that keeps him alive.
He could yodel a
tune
while the angels sang.
Pick his guitar to a song along with the harps.
Right where a cowboy belongs.
What would a cowboy
do up in Heaven?
What kind of range would he ride?
He ain't done nothin' that can't be forgiven.
He's just too full of stubborn pride.
What kind of fences would he be mendin'?
What kind of cattle would he drive?
The work that he does before his life is endin'
is all that keeps him alive. |
