He's not much to look at

A hard-working hand

Riding that western trail

His hat's worn out

He's tall and thin as a rail



And he don't say too much

In the fire's 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

It's long since over and done with

But even a cowboy can dream



Not that he's sorry

For the life he chose

He's 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

There's a face he can't shake from his mind

It makes him consider

What life would be life

If he were the settling kind