The Stubborn Breed

The Stubborn Breed
Ranger Doug, lead singer of the trio Riders in the Sky, likes to open his show the words, "Well, mighty fine and a great big western howdy!" My sentiments exactly. Time is short for me today, but on the lighter and somewhat more nostalgic side I was thinking earlier of some of the folks I know who are spread out across the west, in places utterly unlike my current locality. I worked on a cattle ranch long ago and a part of my heart still tugs that way from time to time. So without further adieu, this one’s for Tailholt, Elko, Chico, Missoula, Genesee and all the buckaroos in between. We’ll see you on down the trail, saddle pals.

The Stubborn Breed
You can fence off every section line
And plow the tall grass under
You can butcher every longhorn steer
And choke the distant thunder
You can dry up every river bed
And every water hole
You can scorch the land with prairie fire
But you cannot take its soul
You can flood the ground and wash
The topsoil to the distant sea
Then roast it under endless drought
And chop down every tree
You can bury the dirt with concrete
You can chafe it with blowing sand
But you cannot break the cowboy
Or drive him from this land
No matter what cruel strangle hold
You may place on his domain
The cowboy will rise from the ashes
To dust himself off and ride again
From Tierra Del Fuego to arctic north
Mighty Miss' out to old Californ'
The cowboy survives, he is well and alive
In this land where his fathers were born
You can't break the spirit of his stubborn breed
You can't nudge him away from the trough
He'll ride the arroyo, the deserts and hills
Like the coyote, you can't kill him off
The cities may swell 'til they bust open wide
Civilization may smother the land
But as long as there's still two square inches of ground
You will find there is still a cowhand
By Frank Carpenter ©