Montana Paradise Poem by Smoky Hoss

In old Montana
Cowboys wear big hats and bright bandanas,
horses smoothly canter
as cattle quietly banter,
the cook makes sweet homemade pies
and everyone sleeps soundly under big clear skies,
they all love this land
where each cowboy is a top hand,
the cowgirls are always glad to see their fellers
and they never holler or beller,
they just help 'em off the horse
and rub their sore backs of course,
in the mornings, coffee's always hot in the cup
while the broncs out in the corral never-ever kick or buck,
the saddles are found to be warm and dry
and the hooley-ann's hit the mark on the first try,
someone's always humming a Western song
with anyone welcome to sing along,
and all the old trucks run and look great
there in the Big-Sky state,
everybody greets each other with a grin and a howdy!
there just ain't no need to fight or get rowdy,
there'll be a free dance each friday night
and plenty of cowgirls that are a wonderful sight,
ask anyone of them to dance
they'll gladly give a cowboy a chance,
then after the halibaloo
don't worry, the sheriff won't bother you,
if you can't ride 'cause you're too soused
he'll be happy to give you a ride, back to the bunkhouse;
- That's just the way it is up in old Montan'
where we all proudly ride for the brand,
and we're all grateful for the day of our birth...
here, in this little bit o' paradise on earth.