When you're there, by yourself,
'neath the heavens,
contemplatin' God's star-garnished face,
an' ya think how you've cheated at poker and love,
how you've dallied with ladies in lace...
When you're sorry ya lied to the foreman
that you'd rode the fence, clear to the creek,
and ya know that ya should'a been kinder
to the kid with the mole on his cheek.
Like the campfire smoke, driftin' skyward,
let the warmth of your soul send each word,
for God treasures each wanderin' cowboy,
an' each mav'rick that strays from the herd.
As the moon lifts its head o'er the pinetops,
and clouds wander the fringes of space,
and the coyotes are croonin' a concert,
there's a warmth that you see in God's face.
But ya wonder if he'd ever claim you
from the refuse you've made of your life-
you dishonored the words of your Mother,
broke the vows that ya made to yer wife.
Like the campfire smoke, driftin' skyward,
let the warmth of your soul send each word,
for God treasures each wanderin' cowboy,
an' each mav'rick that strays from the herd.
While a cheek full of chaw you're a chewin',
you reflect on the choices you've made,
and ya know that yer pride's caused yer suff'rin',
and the grief and the sorrow you've paid.
Like the rodeo bronc's you ain't scored on,
you've been bucked and tossed hard by yer heart;
but you're up and wrapped tight in yer riggin'-
and you're given another fresh start.
Like the campfire smoke, driftin' skyward,
let the warmth of your soul send each word,
for God treasures each wanderin' cowboy,
an' each mav'rick that strays from the herd.
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