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There’s times a man gets lonely
just followin’ the herd,
an’ times he needs companionship,
tho’ that might seem absurd.
But if ya had a cowboy pal
as great as my friend Jake,
you’d never be blindsided,
an’ you’d laugh, for goodness sake.
Ol’ Jake could see the funny
in almost anything,
fightin’, bustin’ broncos,
or a deerfly when it stings.
An’ when things weren’t so funny,
he’d be there in a pinch—
helpin’ out as best he could
ta tighten up my cinch.
I remember once I almost bawled
when life took a real bad turn—
Jake was right there with me
showin’ nothin’ but concern.
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He watched my back in trouble—
an’ knew I’d do the same—
if anyone looked threatenin’,
their attitude he’d change.
So many years we shared the trail,
an’ ate food offa tin,
fought weather an’ some renegades—
just took life on the chin.
But now my days are numbered,
Jake was the first to go—
I have ta just keep movin’ on
much like the rivers flow.
I’ll gently lay a posy
upon my ol’ pal’s grave,
an’ take with me fond memories
to cherish an’ to save.
Lord only knows the answer,
no one can speculate—
why I’m now left here standin’
at the grave of my ol’ mate.
Cowboy Pals written by Tamara Hillman ©2006
Write To Tamara
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