Cattle Call

The cattle are prowling, the coyotes are howling Way out where the doggies roam Where spurs are a jingling, the cowboy is singing 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 wind blows up and slow His heart is a feather in all kinds of weather He sings his cattle call He's browned as a berry From riding the prairie And he sings with an old western drawl Singing his cattle call