But the dustbowl and depression
Didn't do'em any good.
A harsh and stark reminder of
Ma Nature's fickle mood.

Then the government stepped right in
To save'em from their plight.
Created many agencies
To help them do things right.

They all studied and they researched,
For years these folks did toil.
Tried to help protect and conserve
Our wildlife and our soil.

We should give'em credit, because
Friends the credit's due
They all helped produce the harvests
Enjoyed by me and you.

But somewhere in the process things
Seem to've gone askew.
They've gotten pretty complex and
We've lost our common view.

Some buer'crats and politicians
Aren't entirely able,
To utilize their common sense'n,
Discern 'tween truth'n fable.

I don't mean to sound ungrateful
For the advice we've been given.
But boys, you got to understand
We've got to make a livin'.

We grow the cheapest food supply
Of anyone today.
But with all the rules'n politics
It's get'n where it just don't pay.

To humor special int'rest groups
Although they do mean good.
The fact is plain, without us here
There won't be any food.

Somewhere in all the rhetoric
There must be common ground.
To meet and set some policies
That's truly wise and sound.

WHEN I'S A KID, I'D GO TO THEIR HOUSE.
GRANNY'D FIX US BREAD AND JELLY.
GRANDAD'D TICKLE ME UNDER THE CHIN,
SAY, 'COME'ERE, LET ME BITE YER BELLY'.

THEY BOTH COULD MAKE THE GRANDEST OF TOYS
FROM THINGS JUST LAYIN' AROUND.
LIKE A BOW AND ARROW, OR SOME STILTS,
TO WALK ON UP OFF THE GROUND.

THEY'D PLAY BASEBALL WITH ME AFTER CHORES.
AND THEY NEVER STRUCK ME OUT.
TOLD ME THAT I'S THE GREATEST SLUGGER,
I BELIEVED WITHOUT A DOUBT

GRANDAD SHOWED ME HOW TO USE A KNIFE
AND TO WHITTLE ON A STICK.
HOW TO TELL IF A HORSE WAS LAME, OR
IF HE'S MAYBE GETTIN' SICK.

ONCE, HE EVEN BOUGHT ME THIS PONY,
PULLED A CART SO HE'D BEEN TOLD.
WELL, WE HITCHED HIM UP AND BOTH GOT IN.
THEN WE STRUCK OUT DOWN THE ROAD.

THE FIRST FEW FEET, EVER'THING WENT FINE,
THEN THEY SORTA' WENT AWRY.
THAT 'OL HORSE LET OUT A GREAT BIG SQUEAL.
AND JUST TOOK OUT ON THE FLY.

AS WE WENT RATTLIN' AND A BOUNCIN'
OUT ACROSS THE BUNCHGRASS CLUMPS,
GRANDAD LOOKS OVER AT ME, SAYS,
"PARTNER, I THINK WE'D BETTER JUMP!"

GRAND COMES UP ALL SKINT AND BLOODY,
AND MY ARM WAS KINDA HURT
THAT HORSE TOOK OUT A FIVE RAIL FENCE AND
GENERALLY STIRRED UP THE DIRT.

HE COME TO A HALT THERE 'SIDE THE BARN
WITH BIG ROLLERS IN HIS NOSE.
THAT CART HUNG OFF HIM ALL IN PIECES,
HE SURE STRUCK A FUNNY POSE.

I JUMPED UP'N RUN TO THE BARN,
IF MY HORSE WAS HURT, I WANTED TO SEE.
GRANDAD, HE LIMPED ON OVER,
SAID, "IF HE AIN'T, HE'S FIXIN' TO BE!"

FROM THEN ON OUT I'S PUT ON HORSES
GRANDAD WAS SURE THAT HE KNEW,
LIKE BABE OR TOM OR SOX OR CUPY,
NIT FLY OR MAYBE OL' BLUE.

NOW I'VE GROWED UP, AND GUESS YOU COULD SAY,
I'M PRETTY WELL HAIRED OVER.
GRANDAD SEEMS A LITTLE SMALLER, A
LOT MORE WRINKLED AND OLDER.

HE DON'T NAVIGATE LIKE HE USED TO.
DON'T GET OFF THE PLACE TOO MUCH.
MAYBE DRIVE AROUND AND CHECK HIS COWS,
OR GO INTO TOWN TO CHURCH.

HIS OUTSIDES ARE THE WEATHERED RESULTS
OF YEARS SPENT OUT IN THE SUN.
BUT HIS INSIDES HAVEN'T CHANGED A BIT,
STILL FULL'A VIGOR AND FUN.

It filled the canyons and the breaks
And ever' rocky draw.
Gave a feelin' of warmth inside
To all of those who saw.

This light, it was a brother.
A husband and a son.
He was a friend and in my book
Rated second to none.

With him I rode the brammer bull
And chased the ol' wild cow.
For him to be called home so quick
Just don't seem fair somehow.

But I'm sure there was a reason
No one can understand.
That let his ol' horse stumble and
God catch him in His hand.

Maybe He just needed a friend
To sit with 'side the barn.
To talk of horses and cattle
Or just to spin some yarns.

Could be some of heaven's pastures
Just needed prowlin' thru
Well, If a good man was needed,
This one would sure 'nuff do.

His loss left us all empty
Like a piece of us was gone.
For a while we all felt like
We'd been left all alone.

But even in the darkest night
His light comes shinin' thru.
In the faces of his family
And the son he never knew.

I still see it in the cattle
A grazin' on the wheat.
In the feelin's in the voices
When old friends chance to meet.

There in a dusty arena
When some bull turns a crank
I see him laugh and smile because
He always savvied rank.

When I see a good horse workin'
To turn an ol' rouge cow,
I get the feelin' that he's there
A joining in somehow.

I see it might near ever' day
In ever'thing I do.
A brand burned deep into the lives
Of ever'one he knew.
I guess that light'll shine forever
'Cross the Oklahoma Plains,
Like sunlight dancin' on the grass
Behind the warm spring rains.

Cause the old man, ain't been 'round in awhile,
His son'll pause, with a faint smile.
See the miles a horseback, his Dad and him,
Mem'ries tooled, in the flowers and stem.
He'll run his fingers 'cross the old man's wood,
Say, "Dad would ride ya, if he could."

But the boy's pard on the circles he'd roamed,
Rides a chair at the nursin' home.
Stiff and crippled from arthritis and time,
Most days ain't quite right in his mind,
He's lost in the days of a vibrant youth.
Mercif'ly he don't know the truth.
Thinks he's just in there, till he gets healed up,
Then he'll go home and saddle up.

Your bank account's been mauled around
'Till you've just 'bout enough.
To buy a tank of diesel and
A weeks supply of snuff.

All the bills and overdue notes
Prove without a doubt
Cash flow could be the problem here,
'Cause it's all flowin' out.

It's rained too much the last few weeks
But you don't question why.
'Cause you know that soon enough
It'll be too dad-gummed dry.

Life's drawn up tight around your neck
Like some ole hangman's noose.
Some days you stop and ask yourself
Just what the heck's the use.

But you've got some steers to doctor,
Some water gaps to check.
As you slip the cotton lead rope
Around your pony's neck.

Your mood improves a little bit.
You brush his muddy back
Then throw your blankets on him'n
Drag your saddle off the rack.

You tell him of your troubles while
Your warmin' up his bit.
Then lead him out to cinch him up
In case he throwed a fit.

Talkin' plumb nice and gentle like
You step up on his back.
Then turn him' round a time'r two
While gatherin' up the slack.

THE THINGS THAT GOD DID GIVE 'EM.
SO THEY MIGHT AT LEAST SURVIVE.
AND IN SPITE OF ALL THEIR SACRIFICE,
THEY ALL DEARLY LOVED THIS LIFE.

THERE'S PROOF THAT THEY WERE ONCE OUT HERE,
EVIDENCE THAT YOU CAN SEE.
AN OLD HOMESTEAD STANDING BARREN,
A WEED CHOKED CEMETARY.

WHERE THEY LAID THEIR FALLEN COMRADES,
'NEATH A NOW ABANDONED MOUND.
THEN FOR MANY DIFF'RENT REASONS,
MOST MOVED OFF TO SOME BIG TOWN.

WHY'D THEY LEAVE, WELL THERE'S A THEORY,
THAT SOME KNOWIN' PEOPLE TOUT.
THAT JUST LIKE A CROWDED GARDEN,
SOME DID NEED A WEEDIN' OUT.

THAT WITH NEW TECHNIQUES AND PROGRESS,
YOU DON'T NEED A MULTITUDE,
ONE, CAN TAKE THE PLACE OF MANY
TO GROW OUR FIBER AND OUR FOOD.

ITS TRUE THAT FROM PERPETUAL CHANGE,
THERE'S NO PLACE TO RUN OR HIDE.
PROGRESS AFFECTS EACH ONE OF US,
AND THE WAY WE LIVE OUR LIFE.

AND THERE'S LOTS OF NEW IDEAS, WHOSE
OLD FASHIONED ONES PLACE THEY TOOK.
COMPUTER DISKS HAVE NOW REPLACED
YOUR GRANDPA'S OLD TALLY BOOK.

DON'T ASK ME IF THIS IS BAD'R GOOD.
I'M NO SCHOLAR OR NO SCRIBE.
JUST ONE OF THE PRIVILEGED FEW,
WHOSE FOLKS DID PRESERVE THIS LIFE.

AND THEY TAUGHT ME ALL THE BASICS,
THAT YOU NEED TO GET ALONG.
YOUR WORDS A BOND, THERE'S JUST ONE GOD,
TO DO SOMETHIN', EVEN IF IT'S WRONG.

DON'T BE TOO QUICK TO JUDGE OR SCORN,
ON OTHERS, YOUR VIEWS DON'T FORCE,
AND THE BEST WAY TO TEND YOUR COWS
IS ATOP A GOOD COW HORSE.

AND, IF THERE AIN'T TOO MANY OTHERS,
WELL THAT'S QUITE ALRIGHT WITH ME.
CONGESTION, CROWDS, AND CLOSE NEIGHBORS,
WITH ME TEND TO DISAGREE.

I LIKE IT FINE RIGHT WHERE I'M AT,
OUT HERE AMONG THE CHOSEN FEW.
WHERE THERE'S FOLKS THAT YOU CAN COUNT ON.
MOST OF THEM WILL SURE 'NUFF DO.

SO YOU ASK WHERE ARE THE PEOPLE,
WHO ONCE LIVED HERE ON THE LAND?
WHO KNEW HARD TIMES AND ABUNDANCE
WHO COULD TRULY UNDERSTAND.