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There's a silence on the prairie; That a man can't help but feel |
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Shadows growing longer now; Nipping at my heels |
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I know that soon that old four-lane; That runs beneath my wheels |
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Will take me home; to my Sweet Wyoming Home. |
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I headed down the road last summer; With a few good friends of mine |
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They all hit the money, Lord; I didn't make a dime. |
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The entry fees they took my dough; the travlin' took my time; |
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And I'm headed home; to my Sweet Wyoming Home |
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Watch the moon; smiling in the sky |
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Hum a tune; Prairie lullaby; |
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Hear the wind; And old coyoties cry |
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A song of home; Sweet Wyoming Home |
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Now the rounders they all wish you luck; When they know you're in a jam |
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But your money's ridin' on the bull; And he don't give a damn |
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Well there's shows in all the cities; Cities turn your heart to clay |
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Takes all a man can muster; Just to try and get away |
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The songs I'm used to hearin'; Ain't the kind the jukebox play |
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And I'm headed home; To my Sweet Wyoming Home |
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Well I've always loved the ridin'; There ain' t nothing quite the same |
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Another year might bring me luck; Win in another game |
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There's a magpie on a fencerail; That's callin' out my name |
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And he calls me home, To my Sweet Wyoming Home |
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Watch the moon; smiling in the sky |
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Hum a tune; Prairie lullaby; |
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Hear the wind; And old coyoties cry |
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A song of home; Sweet Wyoming Home |
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It's a song of Home, Sweet Wyoming Home |
