Dreamers waste their life and cry over the dreams never given a chance.
But a cowboy's dream's undying, a fever that's never gone,
and he'll follow that dream with all of his heart forever and ever on.
A dream that's turned into a goal for the young, and for the old.
With the heart, they just keep reaching: They're miners diggin' for gold.
Be it horses or calves or bulls or steers, he's pushing and won't ever stop.
He's hooking or swinging or scratchin', but trying and he's going to get to the top.
When God put a heart in a bovine beast and turned him out to ride,
He didn't give him half as much as a cowboy has inside.
It started when he was four years old and his daddy was swinging a rope,
and he let him rope a baby calf with determination and hope.
When his Grandpa was riding a greenbroke colt whose kinks were still quite a few,
and he spurred him hard and rode him tall when that pony broke in two.
When Clint Johnson signed his cowboy hat in nineteen eighty-nine,
and said to him, "Just lift and charge and you'll always do just fine."
When he lost his thumb in his dallies, when his leg broke, steppin' off Ol' Joe,
he grinned and beared and remembered his dream, and said to himself, "Just go!"
And the chute fightin' bronc that 'bout mashed him and the Lord helped his fear to subside:
He pulled down his hat, made a real ugly face and said, "Come on, boys, time to ride."
Well, he's tied calves until his hands bled, he's rode broncs 'till his heels were on fire,
and the things that got him outta them holes was God and an untamed desire.
So Garth, this one's a dance he won't miss, and he ain't here to just get by.
He'll follow his dreams and accomplish his goals, 'cause he's got what counts most, and that's try.
