mountainsaddleband 2013

You know I don't get rattled, sitting in the saddle, pushing them doggies along. Swinging out for strays, can't let them get away. Spurs jingle, jangle a song. Blue skies up above, and I'mma do just what I love. Sitting in the saddle, punching owner's cattle, doing the cowboy shuffle. We're stopping for the night. Campus burning bright. Cookies got beef and beans. Michael sings a sweet song. Kyle's wanting to know. The moon is smiling brighter. Rain or shine, me and Hoss will do it fine, doing the cowboy shuffle. Yodel-oo, boop, boop, boop, boop. Yodel-oo, boop, boop, boop, boop. Yodel-oo, yodel-oo, yodel-oo, yodel-oo, yeah. Morning cocks perking, time to get a-working. Yodel-oo, boop, boop, boop, boop. I can see them all out in a line, slipping to my saddle, swaying with the cattle. That old sun begins to rise, blue skies up above, and I'm doing just what I love, sitting in the saddle, punching on the cattle, doing the cowboy shuffle. Yodel-oo-oo-oo-oo, yodel-oo-oo-oo-oo, yodel-oo-oo-oo-oo. Boop boop, yodel yodel yodel yodel day. Blue skies up above, and I do just what I love. Sitting in the saddle, punching on the saddle, doing the cowboy shuffle. Sitting in the saddle, punching on the saddle, doing the cowboy shuffle. Hey! All right. Uh, you know what, I want to tell you one thing we got up here. We'll take a little bit of time. We won't take much because, boy, they're timing us. But tell your friends and everybody about this so that next year there's no reason why this place couldn't be just crawling with folks. This is a great festival, and I know Bob's put a lot of work into it, and I know he could use some volunteers to help put stuff together. So you tell folks about it. It's a great thing. And, uh, to me, this is close to cowboy as a festival gets, I think.

Oh yeah.

One evening chores are over at our ranch house on the plain, and all I've got to do is lay around. I saddle up my pony and I ride off down that trail to watch the desert sun go down. Riding down the canyon just to watch the sun going down, a picture that no artist dare could paint. White-faced cattle lowing The wind is blowing on the mountainside. I hear a coyote whining for its mate. Cactus plants are blooming, sagebrush everywhere. Granite spires are standing all around. I tell you folks, it's heaven to be riding down that canyon. When the desert sun goes down. Riding down the canyon just to watch the sun going down, a picture that no artist here could paint. I tell you folks, it's heaven to be riding down that trail when the desert sun goes down. Yes, I said when the desert sun goes down.

Taylor, you're gonna have to put the mic in the harmonica. They can't even hear it out there.

Hear what?

Can't hear the harmonica out there. It's real low. Okay.

It's real low. Okay. The harmonica is low.

Okay, I'm turning this thing off. And we'll use this thing here.

Okay. Ouch! I tell you what, there's a cowboy who wrote us— wrote quite a few songs actually. He was a rodeo cowboy and a real cowboy, had a ranch up there in Utah or Montana somewhere. And, uh, well, yeah, Powder River. And he wrote this song, and I think it tells more about the man than anything we could ever have heard him sing. And I know he wrote it from his heart. Chris Ledoux wrote a song called Powder River Home. Nothing like a cowboy looking to come home. There's a full moon rising in the prairie sky tonight. Lord, it's good to be I'll be on my way home. Over that horizon, she keeps the home fires burning bright. I'm going back to my Powder River home. Where the rivers wind from the Bighorns up above, and the clear moon shines on the prairie that I love. It's the closest place I'm going back to my Powder River home. Traveling round the country for a dozen years or more. Honey, how your point of view can change. I finally found the rainbow that I've been searching for. It's right above my head. My Powder River home. Where the rivers wind from the Bighorns up above and the clear moon shines on the prairie that I love. It's the closest place to heaven this cowboy's ever known. I'm going back to my Powder River home. Where the rivers wind from the Bighorns up above, and the clear moon shines on the prairie that I love. It's a glorious night. It's the closest place to heaven this cowboy's ever known. I'm going back to my Powder River home. It's the closest place to heaven this cowboy's ever known. I'm going back to my Powder River home. There's a full moon rising in the prairie sky. Sometimes we have fun up here because Steve grabs the wrong harmonica, so he's not in the right key. And so, uh, that's okay. You don't need to prove nothing, Steve. It's all over and done with. Oh no. So to redeem himself, we're going to do a song that Steve wrote the words to and I wrote the music. And I think he knows the key that this one's in, and so we'll give it a shot. It's on our newest CD called *The Heart of a Cowboy*, and the song is called *The Heart of a Cowboy*. The heart of a cowboy flies happy and free, like the heart of An eagle on high. He'll do more than his part, 'cause a cowboy's heart is big as the wide open sky. It's as big as the wide open sky. His heart is at home when he's out on the roam, on the prairie or the mountain high. But when he's stuck in a city like a bird In a cage, he longs for the wide open sky. Yodel-ay-ee, yodel-ay-ee, yodel-ay-ee, yodel-ay-ee, yodel-ay-ee, yodel-ay-ee, yodel-ay-ee. His heart isn't given to high worthless living, all the things that folks call the good life. The heart of a cowboy is given to his lord, his horse. His kids and his wife. The heart of a cowboy flies happy and free like the heart of an eagle on high. He'll do more than his part 'cause a cowboy's heart is as big as the wide open sky. Is as big as the wide open sky. His idea of fun is to get He'll get the job done with a heart full of love for the land. He'll help out his neighbor, his family, and his friends with whatever God puts in his hand. The heart of a cowboy will go the last mile to find a lost calf in the night. He's tender but he's tough, and when he's had enough, the cowboy will fight for what's right. The heart of a cowboy flies happy and free. Like the heart of an eagle on high, he'll do more than his part. How the cowboy's heart is as big as the wide open sky, is as big as the wide open sky. Yodel-odee, yodel-odee, yodel-odee, yodel-odee, yodel-odee, yodel-odee, yodel-odee. Yes, the heart of a cowboy. A cowboy flies happy and free like the heart of an eagle on high. He'll do more than his part 'cause a cowboy's heart is big as the wide open sky. It's as big as the wide open sky. A cowboy's heart. Oh, thank you. I'm Bob Kinford.