We all stood around with our hats in our hands
The preacher cast his dust to the wind
In the very first snowfall of the year
When the West was young well he was too
An old time rounder and a buckaroo
And it all feels a little more empty now he's gone
He saw the range as it disappeared
He saw it all through his horses ears
Now who's gonna sing him one last song?
There's no cowboy songs on the radio
It just ain't western anymore
And Nashville you ought to be ashamed
It ain't so grand on the Opry stage
They must be turning in their graves
Down at the Country Hall of Fame
There's a business man in a three piece suit
In a private plane he's just en route
To sign another gold recording star
He talks about bulls and he talks about bears
But he ain't seen one in years
And the only stock he knows is a stock exchange
He's gonna put another hit on the Billboard chart
And tear another piece right from the heart
Of the Country/western name
The coyote calls out in the night
The hawk soars high on the great divide
And it's almost calving time on the northern range
Underneath the big Chinook arch
We're doing our best to do our part
And it still sounds mighty western when we sing
If anybody asks just so you know
You can tell 'em out on the Eastern slopes
That cowboys are still king