Got a new little horse
he's handy, stout, just barely tame
Doesn't have a pedigree
just some sagebrush in his mane.
This horse has been cross country
most men have never rode.
Over red-rock mountains
and into canyons filled with aspen groves.
There's something about runnin' free
that puts sense in a pony's head
the lessons in the wild don't count one, two, three
but often times dead.
How to dig in with those hocks,
put his head down and pull
all that stuff about bittin' up and leads
is just a lot of bull.
You hand me one who's learned his manners
from the teeth of a bitchy mare
or has had to dig for his feed in winter
when the hills are just plain bare.
I got me a case of trophies
they're not made of silver and such
it's just the times that me and my pony
have Run free that we love so much.
So you can have your polished show horse
with his blankets nose to tail
I'll take my rangy mustang
who rather stand outside, ass-end to the hail.
