In “Cowboy Heaven” there are no wings,

only spurs and boots, and chaps and reins.

In old straw hats the cowboys smile,

for in no time at all they’ve ridden a mile.

With a strong sturdy mount they rope and they ride,

never tiring a bit as they take it in stride.

It’s roundup time , a new Angel in lead,

he’s a tough ridin’ hombre with a great white steed.

He gathers the wranglers and begins to shout,

with a twinkle in his eyes, he yells “move em’ out”!

Across the clouds they run their herds,

laughing and smiling, there’s no need for words.

For in “Cowboy Heaven” they never get thrown,

They ride and enjoy what they’ve always known.