I wish that I'd been one;
I'd ride the old Strawberry Roan,
And then the Zebra Dun;
And then the Zebra Dun.
I'd ride along the canyon,
And wear a Colt six gun,
'n' drink my coffee from an old tin cup,
Where lonesome rivers run;
Where lonesome rivers run.
I'd round up Texas longhorns,
From dawn 'till settin' sun;
Sing ti-yi-YIP-yip yippee yeah,
And watch the dogies run;
And watch the dogies run.
I'd sing to 'em at midnight,
Along the Chisholm trail,
Then drive 'em in the noonday sun.
And swat one on the tail;
And swat one on the tail.
When we got up to Kansas,
To sell their mangy hides,
I'd grab a little dance hall girl,
And swing her far and wide;
And swing her far and wide.
I'd camp beneath some willows,
And wrap my blankets tight,
With an angel watchin' over me
For each star in the night;
For each star in the night.
Some dreams are made to come true,
And some to live inside;
I've never roped a pony, but
My soul is free to ride;
My soul is free to ride.
Oh, sing to me of cowboys;
I wish that I'd been one;
I'd ride the old Strawberry Roan,
And then the Zebra Dun;
And then the Zebra Dun.
Lyric: Dean Elkins, Frayed Train Music, c. 2000
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