This is the last cowboy song The end of a hundred year waltz The voices sound sad as they're singin' along Another piece of America's lost He rides the feed lots, clerks in the markets On weekends sellin' tobacco and beer And his dream's of tomorrow, surrounded by fences But he'll dream tonight of when fences weren't here He blazed the trail with Lewis and Clark And eyeball to eyeball, old Wyatt backed down He stood shoulder to shoulder with Travis in Texas And rode with the Seventh when Custer went down This is the last cowboy song The end of a hundred year waltz The voices sound sad as they're singin' along Another piece of America's lost
Remmington showed us how he looked on canvas And Louis Lamour has told us his tale Me and Johnny and Waylon and Kris sing about him And wish to God we could have ridden his trail This is the last cowboy song (the old Chisholm trail is covered in concrete now) The end of a hundred year waltz (and they truck it to market in fifty foot rigs) The voices sound sad as they're singin' along (they roll by his markings and don't even notice) (Like living and dying was all he ever did) another piece of America's lost This is the last cowboy song The end of a hundred year waltz The voices sound sad as they're singin' along Another piece of America's lost This is the last cowboy song The end of a hundred year waltz