I rode across a valley range
I hadn’t seen for years
The trail was all so spoilt and strange
It nearly fetched the tears
I had to let ten fences down
The fussy lanes ran wrong
And each new line would make me frown
And hum this mournin' song
Mhm, hear 'em stretchin' of the wire!
The urban brand is on the land
I reckon I’ll retire
While progress toots her greedy horn
And makes her motor buzz
I thanks the Lord I wasn’t born
No later than I was
'Twas good to live when all the sod
Without no fence or fuss
Belonged in partnership with God
Mother Nature and to us
Where skyline bounds from east to west
And room to go and come
I loved my fellow man the best
When he was scattered some
Mhm, closer and closer crawls the wire
There’s hardly place to step away
And call a man a liar
Their house has locks on every door
Their land is in a crate
These ain’t the plains of God no more
They’re only real estate
When my old soul hunts range and rest
Beyond the last divide
Just plant me in some stretch of West
Sunny, lone and wide
Let cattle rub the tombstone round
And coyotes mourn their kin
Let horses come and paw the moun'
But don’t you fence it in!
Mhm, far and farther flings the wire
To crowd and pinch another inch
It’s all their heart’s desire
The world is overstocked with men
And some will see the day
When each must keep his little pen
But I’ll be far away
While progress toots her greedy horn
And makes her motor buzz
I thanks the Lord I wasn’t born
No later than I was