night riders lament


                                                                                                                                                                                                                                

                                                                                                                                
First Prayer in Congress                                                                                                                       
BACK, All My Baxter Links!
Back to Frances's Music
                                                                                                                            

                                                     NIGHT RIDER'S LAMENT  

(G) C F / C G G7 / F G7 C / G G7 C

F C F C / F G7 C / F G7 C F C F / G7 C

Last night as I was riding

Graveyard shift, midnight to dawn,

Oh, the moon was as bright as a reading light

For a letter from an old friend back home.

He asked me, "Why do you ride for your money?

Why do you rope for short pay?

You ain't gettin' nowhere and you're loosing your share - -

Oh, you must have gone crazy out there."

He said, "Last night I run into Jenny;

She's married and has a good life.

Oh, you sure missed the track when you never come back;

She's the perfect professional's wife.

She asked me, 'Why does he ride for his money?

Why does he rope for short pay?

He ain't gettin' nowhere and he's loosing his share.

Oh, he must have gone crazy out there.' "

But they've never seen the Northern Lights.

Never seen the hawk on the wing.

Never seen the spring hit the great divide - -

No, they've never heard old camp cookie sing.

Well, I read up the last of the letter.

I tore off the stamp for Black Jim.

And Billy come by to relieve me;

Just looked at my letter and grinned.

He said, "They ask you why do you ride for your money?

Why do you rope for short pay?

You ain't gettin' nowhere and you're loosing your share - -

Oh, you must have gone crazy out there."

But they've never seen the Northern Lights.

Never seen the hawk on the wing.

Never seen the spring hit the great divide - -

No, they've never heard old camp cookie sing.

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Words and music by Mike Burton, copyright 1975 Groper Music, Inc.