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Don Edwards - I'd Like To Be In Texas (Chord)
Submitter: lmofle (675) on 11/20/15
Month Views: 243 | Total Views: 4,863
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I'd Like To Be In Texas When They Roundup in the Spring
By Don Edwards
Written By Traditional
CD: Saddle Songs (1997)
Tabbed By Larry Mofle
11/20/15

Requested by: Cowboyrogers98 on 11/18/2015 

Tabbed from https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RCW4QX-HIag


G                              C                  G
In the lobby of a big hotel in New York Town, one day
  G                              A7                     D7  
A bunch of fellows telling yarns just to pass the time away
     G                                    C                       G
They told of places where they'd been and different things they'd seen
G                                  D7           G 
Some preferred Chicago Town, while others New Orleans


In the corner in an old armchair sat a man whose hair was gray
He sat & listened eagerly, to what they had to say
They asked him where he'd like to be, his clear old voice did ring
I'd like to be in Texas for the roundup in the spring


Chorus:
  G                               C 
I see the cattle grazing o'er the hills at early morn
  G                                                D7
I see the campfires smoking at the breaking of the dawn
  G                             C
I hear the bronco's neighing, I hear the cowboy sing
    G                           D7             G
I'd like to be in Texas for the roundup in the spring


They sat and listened eagerly to each word he had to say
They knew the old man sitting there had been a top hand in his day
So they asked him for a story of his life out on the plains
Slowly he removed his hat then quietly began

I've seen 'em stampede o'er the hills till you'd think they'd never stop
I've seen 'em run for miles and miles until their leader dropped
I was a foreman of a cow ranch, the calling of a king
I'd like to be in Texas for the roundup in the spring


Chorus


I'd like to sleep my last long sleep with mother earth for bed
My saddle for a pillow, the bright stars overhead
Then I could hear the last stampede, the songs of rivers sing
Way back down in Texas for the roundup in the spring 
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