| She comes down from Yellow Mountain | |
| On a dark, flat land she rides | |
| On a pony she named Wildfire | |
| With a whirlwind by her side | |
| On a cold Nebraska night | |
| Oh, they say she died one winter | |
| When there came a killing frost | |
| And the pony she named Wildfire | |
| Busted down its stall | |
| In a blizard he was lost | |
| She ran calling Wildfire | |
| She ran calling Wildfire | |
| She ran calling Wildfire | |
| By the dark of the moon - I planted | |
| But there came an early snow | |
| There's been a hoot-owl howling by my window now | |
| For six nights in a row | |
| She's coming for me I know | |
| And on Wildfire we're both gonna go | |
| We'll be riding Wildfire | |
| We'll be riding Wildfire | |
| We'll be riding Wildfire | |
| On Wildfire we're gonna ride | |
| Gonna leave sodbustin' behind | |
| Get these hard times right on out of our minds | |
| Riding Wildfire |
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