THERE'S NOBODY HOME ON THE RANGE ANYMORE
Chris LeDoux - 1976
Rex Allen Jr. - 1982
Rex Allen & Don Edwards - 1994
The old man used to dream of the fortunes he'd seek,
now he lives in a room where you pay by the week.
His hands are all battered, his pony's gone lame,
and his bones always ache when the sky looks like rain.
There's nobody home on the range anymore,
they closed down the bunk-house and padlocked the door.
Now there' s oil-wells and motels and folks by the score -
but there's nobody home on the range anymore.
Now the eagle stopped flying, the nightwind is still,
and the last cow' s howling on some lonely hill.
The old man is longing to take it all down
in his final box outside of town.
Because he knows his last mountai is two flights of stairs,
and his saddle turned into an old rocking chair.
Mornings he wakews up and wander what for,
'cause there' s nobody home on the range anymore.