High on a mountain on Western Montana
… ..
A silowet moves cross a cinnamon sky
Riding along on a horse he calls music
With a song on his lips
… …
And a tear in his eye
He dreams of a time
And a lady who loved him
And how he would sing her
Sweet lullabies
But we don’t ever ask him
And he never talks about her
I guess it’s just better
That we all let it slide
And he sings ohhhh to the lady’s
And ohhhh he makes them sigh
Then he rides away
On a horse he calls music
The pain in his heart
And a tear in his eye
(Solo)
Now he wrote the music
From Boston to Bozmon
Not to much money
And way to much ride
But those were the days
When a horse he called music
The jump through the moon
And Flied across the sky
Now all that’s left
Is an old time worn cowboy
With only his dreams
Of the days gone gone by
And trailin behind
Is a horse with no rider
A horse he calls memories
That she used to ride
But he sang ohhhh
To the ladies
And ohhhh he damn near made some fall right down and die
And he’d ride away
On a horse he called music
The pain in his heart
And a tear in his eye
High on a mountain in Western Montana
… ..
Two crosses cut through a cinnamon sky
Markin the place were
A horse he called music
Lays with a cowboy
There by his side