A pair of rusty spurs hang on the tack room wall
And an old and worn out saddle
Sits all dusty on the rack.
These, and a spadebit headstall
Take an old man's memory back
To when he, and his old stud horse, Sun,
Rode the hills and did it all.

Old feeble hands caress the leather
And he sees himself and "Sun"
In those mountains over yonder,
Horse and man were strong and young;
Happy just to be together.
And the old man hears the thunder
Of the buckskins joyful run.

Now, that which they have sown, they reap;
And they're both content to stand,
Old horse and old man, half asleep,
Resting in the shade and sharing
Touch of muzzle - touch of hand.
Give and take the love and caring,
In their minds the years repeat.

DuSean Sun, you've been so faithful,
My golden buckskin - perfect friend.
Willing servant - more - my partner.
Still your beauty hides your age.
Still this old man boasts about you,
As we both approach the end
Old Man - Old Horse - we will someday
Ride together off the page.