Instead of working horseback and following the cow
I could be afoot behind a horse
And following the plow.

Sleeping soft in a cabin, cuddling a baby,
Loving a man,
Clear water and home cooking,
A settled kind of life.

That's far away, far, far away from the fix I'm in here now.
Here my belly is my blanket and my back my only bed,
Stone the only pillow on which to lay my bleeding head;

Can't even wallow a hip hole where I lie on solid rock.
No one to sing a sad song, no prayers, no soothing talk.
I'm so alone, so all alone, it will be a comfort to be dead.

A stumble on the rimrock;horse and me both took a spill.
He's down, bad hurt and thrashing, beyond my reach to kill
to relieve his pain and misery, so I guess we share our fate.
In this lonely place so far away where help will come too late. and the relief is that my rifle is gone, long gone, downhill.

Death won't be long in coming and I hope I face it brave;
That the pain will treat me gentle so I'll not rant and rave,
Praying the God who made me, or blaming him for this fix.
Let my mind, instead stay clear and resist those devil tricks
And to the end, the very end, thank God for the life he gave.

As clear and compelling as the clang of a dinner bell
Is the horse's futile scratching at the ground in which he fell,
So the buzzards glide and slide down a drain of azure sky
Studying the menu; watching, waiting for supper to die.
And only bones, lonely bones, will be left,
The story to tell.

Soon my Maker will be asking me if I lived the golden rule
And wonder about my learning in His earthly mortal school.
I'll answer for every wicked thought that ever filled my mind
While hoping they'll be balanced by the times I acted kind
so the tally shows but human after all.