Reckon it was long about November
I think a cowpoke sort's loses track of time
The boss was send'n three of his old hands out
To check on some strays and broken fence line!
They figure'd they'd be out fer a week or so
Russ's pards said, they'd pack in the supplies they'd need
So he head'd up to McCormac Creek alone
To scout fer them cows on his restless steed!
O'le Buck hadn't been work'd much lately
So that darn horse was wound up like a top
But after about twenty miles of constant grade
He'd settle'd down to a steady walk!
Russ root'd out a few cagey White Face Steers
And mend'd some fence here and there
Found the spot where they were suppost to meet
But daylight was fade'n, with no time to spare!
He gather'd up all the loose wood around
Got a fire go'n and tied up a picket line
He sure want'n some Hot Coffee and Chuck
When his pards show'd, all he said was, "'Bout Time"!
"MOREWOOD" (Dan Rice)
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