Grew up a country bumpkin—
known the freedom that entails,
worked hard to make a livin’—
walked down some dusty trails.

Ma ‘n Pa was rough on me,
said it was for my good,
but I lit out real early
just to prove to them I could.

Did some drinkin’ in my early days,
an’ had a wife or two,
now, I only got my horse,
an’ a ornery dog named Blue.

I’ve lived the life I wanted,
an’ done most ever’thing,
have few regrets or heartaches,
so I really cain’t complain.

The sky’s my roof above me,
a campfire keeps me warm—   
my bed is straw ‘n saddlebags,
an’ bath—a country storm.

Drink water from the rivers clear
that fill from creek ‘n stream—
eat jerky, hard-tack biscuits,
an’ drink coffee without cream.

My hair is gettin’ gray now,
bones creak more ever’ day,
but I can still punch cattle,
brand them doogies, an’ buck hay.

If I should die tomorrow,
I’ll be glad to meet that train,   
for God’s seen fit in all His grace
to let me hold the reins.

I’ll ride them clouds in Heaven,
an’ sleep in if I please,
praise the Lord Almighty,
as I get down on my knees.

All my troubles will be over―
won’t even mind the rain,
‘cause God’ll keep me sheltered
from all this earthly pain.

So, let me never be forgettin’   
how grand a life I’ve had,
‘cause I’ve loved ever’ minute,
an’ it sure ain’t been that bad.


Tamara Hillman

©2001