It's been 'bout thirty years now, to this Christmas day
And I can still hear those wise words that Dad did say:
"Don't ever sell your saddle, don't quit balin' hay—
When ya give your word, keep it—it's a real man's way."
I wish that I could swear I've lived up to his words,
But like the truth sometimes, they've flown off with the birds.
It's not to say I've tired, and mostly I've been true—
But if I could do things over, there's some I'd undo.
Well, I'm still balin' hay and my word I always keep,
I've got a good woman and I sing the kids to sleep.
We keep the ranch a goin' and we're doin' just fine,
But I regret sellin' Dad's saddle back in ninety-nine.
Times were tough and we scraped every cent that year—
At a Christmas eve auction sold some cows, a steer—
Then it came down to Dad's saddle and some ol' tack—
'Course that saddle brought the most cash and that's a fact.
Couldn't figure out who bought it—never seen 'em before—
When he bought that saddle, he was quick out the door.
One year later, there came a knock on Christmas day—
There stood the stranger with Dad's saddle and he did say:
"Fixed it up and brought it back—this is where it should be—
Your Dad, me and Zack, used to cowboy and they told me
A man shouldn't sell his saddle, so here it is again—
Think of it as a gift from someone who was a friend."
It had been over ten years since Dad passed away—
Stood lookin' at the stranger, didn't know what to say.
Dad never told us much 'bout his life out on the range,
But he did mention his best pard, a man called Bob Strange.
We thanked Bob and asked him to join our Christmas feast,
He said no need for thanks, that this was just the least
He could do to help out the boy of his ol' pal
And that he had to get back to the North Corral.
I was awful glad to see my Dad's saddle back,
When a few weeks later I came across ol' Zack.
Out of the blue I asked if he heard of Bob Strange—
He nodded and said yes, then his smile began to change.
He wondered why I asked 'bout someone I never met—
I told him 'bout Dad's saddle and he began to fret.
"Ya understand," Zack said, "Bob's been dead twenty year."
That's when I turned grim and my smile did disappear.
"But I just talked to him," I said, "back on Christmas day!"
"You're wrong," Zack said, "but I 'member what he used to say:
Don't ever sell your saddle, don't quit balin' hay—
When ya give your word, keep it—it's a real man's way!"
Originally Posted On Site: 2009-10-15 14:15:50
Last Login: 03.02.10
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