Littlefield
Way down in Littlefield, home of my daddy
The last living cowboys were known
To carry on life in there finest traditions
And so they made this town their home

They lived in the saddle
And herded up cattle
the last of their race lingered on
And though it’s a secret
Well I’ve always known
That my dad would have like to been one

Over bisquits and gravy
He’d tell me and Davey
Of the days that he spent in the sun
He’d pack up his lunch and ride out on ole’ Dolly
And do the things cowboys had done

Born 50 years to late
To ever have ridden the range
But the stories he heard remained
Of the episodes out on the plains

Way down in Littlefield, home of my daddy
The last living cowboys were known
To carry on life in there finest traditions
And so they made this town their home

©Michael Tomlinson


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