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CHigh on a Ammountain in Fwestern MonCtana
AmA silhouette Cmoves across a Gcinnamon sky
CRiding Amalong on a Fhorse he calls Cmusic
With a Amsong on his Clips, and a Gtear in his Ceye
CHe dreams of a Amtime, and a Flady that Cloved him
Amand how he would Csing her sweet lullaGby?s
Cbut we don?t ever Amask him, and he Fnever talks Cabout her
AmI guess its just Cbetter that Gwe all let it Cslide
And he Fsings Oooh to the Cladies
Fand Oooh he Cmakes 'em sigh
CThen he rides Amaway on a Fhorse he calls CMusic
With a Ampain in his Cheart, and a Gtear in his Ceye
Now he rode the Music from Boston to Bozeman
For not too much money, and way too much ride
But those were the days when a horse he called Music
Could jump through the moon and fly across the sky
Now all thats left is an old time worn cowboy
With only his dreams of the days long gone by
And trailin behind is a horse with no rider
A horse he calls Memories that she used to ride
High on a mountain in western Montana
Two crossed cut through a cinnamon sky
Marking the place where a horse he called Music
Lays with a cowboy there by his side
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