A hard-working hand
 Riding that western trail
 His hat's worn out
 He's tall and thin as a rail

 And he don't say too much
 In the fire's glow
 When the others are shooting the breeze
 He stares at the stars
 Hand on his chin
 And they wonder what he sees

 Its something to do with a woman
 Down around Abilene
 It's long since over and done with
 But even a cowboy can dream

 Not that he's sorry
 For the life he chose
 He's roamed to far for regrets
 The longhorns have led him
 'Cross thousands of miles
 And into as many sunsets

 When the silent nights
 Give him room to think
 There's a face he can't shake from his mind
 It makes him consider
 What life would be life
 If he were the settling kind