northanger (northanger) wrote,
northanger
northanger

there is a young cowboy

He lives on the range.
His horse and his cattle are his only companions.
He works in the saddle, and he sleeps in the canyons.
Waitin' for summer, his pastures to change.

And as the moon rises, he sits by his fire.
Thinkin' about women, and glasses of beer.
Then closin' his eyes, as the doggies retire.
He sings out a song, which is soft but it's clear.
As if maybe someone could hear.

Good night, you moonlight ladies.
Rockabye, Sweet Baby James.
Deep greens and blues are the colors I choose.
Won't ya let me go down in my dreams.
And rockabye, Sweet Baby James!

Now the first of December, was covered with snow.
And so was the turnpike from Stockbridge to Boston.
Oh the Berkshires seem dreamlike on account of that frostin'.
With ten miles behind me, and ten thousand more to go.

There's a song that they sing when they take to the highway.
A song that they sing when they take to the sea.
A song that they sing of their home in the sky.
Maybe you can believe it, if it helps you to sleep.
But singin' works just fine for me.

So good night, you moonlight ladies.
Rockabye, Sweet Baby James.
Deep greens and blues are the colors I choose.
Won't ya let me go down in my dreams.
And rockabye, Sweet Baby James.
[+][+]

Tags: james taylor, sweet baby james
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