it was called the promised land.
Big and wild and open and free,
room for all to make their stand.
They say it was gold that stirred their bones
and caused the masses to move.
I reckon it was somethin' deeper than that
and it ain't that hard to prove.
Folks is born with a restless twitch,
that pushes them to succeed or fail.
To climb this mountain in front of them,
or saunter on down the next trail.
It's an inherited hankerin' it seems to me,
passed down all the way from Day One.
Souls searchin' for the garden we lost long ago
When this earth had barely begun.
A haven for our spirit is what we lack,
why our stones don't gather no moss.
In our hearts we know there's a place up ahead
nailed down by His work on the cross.
There's a Promised Land waitin' way up above,
For those who follow the Son.
Where our restless spirit will find home at last,
and the West will truly be won.
Cowboy Poetry, Cowboy Stories and Western Fun
|When The Cowboys Come To Town|
Cowboy poetry and tall tales right out of the old west. True western family fun, stories and entertainment! Get the scoop on real cowboys thru' illustrations of rodeos, horses, dogs, and whispers of western cowboy life. Included are some photos. For a wide variety of family fun cowboy poetry and also some Christian cowboy poetry, click here: http://cowboyfun.com/