OUT WHERE THE WEST BEGINS

Out Where the West Begins.midi

He'd lived somewhere in lonesome land,

amoungst the wind swept places.

"Out west somewhere," he said,

"where life isn't crammed into little spaces."

Out where the suns a little brighter

and snow capped mountains a little whiter,

where friendship rings a little truer,

and the skies seem a trifle bluer.

Where the air is filled with the scent of wild sage

and the cowboys watch over the cattle that graze.

Where trust can be seen in a strangers gaze

and comfort can be found in a campfires blaze.

He lived his life in a lonely place,

and went through it with a wind burnt face.

His raspy ole voice seemed a song,

a vocal saga of the strong.

He brought a vision of ranges so vast,

and of manful vigils in the wintery blast.

A home in the open mixed with the sun, snow and rain

somewhere out on the wide Wyoming plains.

We took him, after his story came to it's end,

and buried him in the earth that he'd called his friend,

out around that final bend

back to where the west begins.

Bobbie Gogain 9/10/97