A Li'l Cowpoke's Christmas Prayer...By:
Jonathan W. Messenger
A
little cowpoke went to bed, and on his bended knee….prayed,
"Brother
Jesus, can you save some of this range for me?
My
Pa's so worried 'cause they're takin' all our range away….
Please,
save me some so I can be a cowboy some fine day."
My
great-grandpa was a cowboy, he rode the Chisholm Trail…
He
kept your word, he stood up tall, never did no time in jail...
He
taught my pa to make a hand, and to make his word be true…
With
love and care they kept this range the way they learned from you.
They
was square in all their dealings, and perlite with women folks…
And
they never wanted nothin' more than to be just good cowpokes...
Stringin'
fence or punchin' cattle, playin' straight, not
causin' strife…
Now
the fancy folks from Washington's come to steal away their life.
My
Ma's been readin' from her Bible with a teardrop in her eve…
And
teachin' me the story of how you were born to die...
How
God takes care of lilies and of little sparrows, too...
Now
it's Christmas Eve and I just want to ask one thing from you.
Touch
the hearts of all the fancy men and help them see our need…
And
show 'em how they hurt us all when they're givin' in to greed,
My
family's all been cowboys, an' that's all I wanna be...
So,
I’m prayin’, Brother Jesus, won't you save some range for me.
Then
the little cowpoke said his thanks, and snuggled into bed…
But
this Christmas Eve no sugarplums danced 'round in his head...
He
didn't dream of Santa Claus, or the angel cherubim…
He
dreamed of ridin' with his son on the range you saved for him.
Now
the highways and the houses are creepin' 'cross the range…
And
the Bible seems to prophesy the comin' of the change...
And
the fancy folks hold power, and there's one thing shore is true…
We’re
fearful we won't make it, lest we get some help from you.
So,
just like that little puncher, we're prayin' straight to you…
And
we're faithful it will be your will to see our prayers come true...
We're
so thankful for your comin', Lord, and on this Christmas Day…
We're
prayin' you won't let them take all our range away.
Touch
the hearts of all the fancy men and help them see our need…
And
show 'em how they hurt us all when they're givin' in to greed,
We're
cowboys, all born to this land, until our dyin' day…
So,
we're prayin' Brother Jesus, don't take our range away.
A
little cowpoke went to bed, and on his bended knee…prayed,
"Brother
Jesus, can you save some of this range for me?
I
know you love me, Brother Jesus, don't take our land away...
Please,
save me some, so I can be a cowboy some fine day...
Please...save
me some...so I can be...a cowboy…some
fine day.
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