A hard-working hand 
 Riding that western trail 
 His hat's worn out 
 He's tall and thin as a rail 
  
 And he don't say too much 
 In the fire's glow 
 When the others are shooting the breeze 
 He stares at the stars 
 Hand on his chin 
 And they wonder what he sees 
  
 Its something to do with a woman 
 Down around Abilene 
 It's long since over and done with 
 But even a cowboy can dream 
  
 Not that he's sorry 
 For the life he chose 
 He's roamed to far for regrets 
 The longhorns have led him 
 'Cross thousands of miles 
 And into as many sunsets 
  
 When the silent nights 
 Give him room to think 
 There's a face he can't shake from his mind 
 It makes him consider 
 What life would be life 
 If he were the settling kind