The cattle are prowlin
The coyotes are howlin
Way out where the doggies roam
Where the spurs are a jinglin
And the cowboy is singin
His lonesome cattle call
He rides in the sun
Til his days work is done,
And he rounds up the cattle each fall
Singing his cattle call
For hours he would ride
On the range far and wide
When the night winds blows up like smoke
His heart is a feather
In all kinds of weather
He sings his cattle call
Hes browned as a fairy
From riding the prairie
And he sings with an old western drawl
Singin his cattle call
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