Verse Some folks like the city Grass thats curried smooth and green Theaters and stranglin collars Wagons run by gas olene But for me its hawse and saddle Everyday without a change And the dessert sun a blazin On a hundred miles of range Just a ridin, a ridin Dessert riplin in the sun................. Mountains blue along the skyline I don't envey anyone when I'm riden When my feet is in my stirrups And my hawse is on the bust With his hooves a flashin lightnin In a cloud of golden dust And the bawl-in of the cattle Is a com-in down the wind Then a finer life than riden Would be mighty hard to find Just a ridin, a ridin Spittin long cracks thru the air............. Stirrin up a baby cyclone Rippin up the prickly pear when I'm ridin I don't need no art exhibits When the sunset does her best Painting ever-lasting glory On the moun-tains to the west And your opry sounds so foolish When the night-bird starts his tune And the desserts silver mounted By the touches of the moon Just a ridin, a ridin Who can envy kings and czars.............. When the coyotes down the valley Are a singin to the stars when i'm ridin When my last long trail is ended And my final bacons curled And the last great roundups finished At the home ranch of the world I don't want no harps nor halos Robes nor other dressed up things Just let me ride the starry ranges On a spotted horse with wings Just a ridin, a ridin Nothin I'd like half so well.............. As a roundin up the sinners That have wondered out of hell and a ridin, Just a ridin