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Big Green Country

(Written: t.b.d.)


Across the plain
    flew the lone grey rider
Leather bag
    pounding on his back
Above the clouds the moon
    was climbing higher
A pack of wolves wanted
    their money back

With folded arms
    the chief stood watching
Painted braves
    slipped down the hill
In his ears
    the spirit talking
As they closed in
For an easy kill

At the house
    the door was wide open
Wind blew
    curtains off the rod
She was waiting and hoping
She was praying to her god

He was luckier than most men
He was barely in his prime
As she stood there
    in the doorway
Her long dress flowing
Would he make it this time


Over the hill
    in the big green country
That's the place where
    the cancer cowboy rides
Pure as the driven snow
    before it got him
Sometimes I feel like
    he's all right

Sometimes I feel
    like a piece of paper
Sometimes I feel
    like my own name
Sometimes I feel
    different later
Sometimes I feel
I feel just the same