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He Wasn't a Bad Kid, When He Was Sober

de Tom Russell

Down a one lane road there's a dusty fairground
Where I learned the bronc trade and I fell in love
With a blue eyed twister and her smoky whisper
She said "they call me the Cimarron Dove"

We'd spool our bedrolls on down together
My calloused hands combed through her hair
She'd stare at a star through an old mesquite tree
"See that moon shadow, there's a bucking horse there"

Sweet bird of youth, no easy keeper
Flown with the seasons all too soon
Beneath Montana's blue roan skies
Nevada starlight and a bucking horse moon

Our love reeled out like a Western movie
Down hard worn highways through the rodeo towns
Wrapped in her wings for the midnight flight
That bucking horse moon kept shining down

Bucking horse moon on the hood of the truck
She'd smile and say "that means good luck
Bucking horse shadow through the purple sage
We'll ride forever our love won't age"

But heart and bone are made for breaking
The Cimarron Dove's flown with the wind
Then a bronc in Prescott rolled on my back
I'll never ride rough stock again

Sweet bird of youth, no easy keeper
Flown with the seasons all too soon
Beneath Montana's blue roan skies
Nevada starlight and a bucking horse moon

I lost my youth on the dusty fairgrounds
I'm an old bronc fighter long past high noon
But on a haunted night wind I can hear her whispering
As I search the heavens for the bucking horse moon
The Cimarron Dove and the bucking horse moon

Sweet bird of youth, no easy keeper
Flown with the seasons all too soon
Beneath Montana's blue roan skies
Nevada starlight and the bucking horse moon
Wyoming sundown and a bucking horse moon

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