Stuart Watkins
just leave the stable door open and I’ll know you’re gone
knew it was happening before you saddled up Lady Astor
leaving was in your eyes, in your frown, in our bed
begging you to stay was not a part of my song
we rode herd together, ranched, and grew our spread
dust storms, drought, wildfires, and calving filled our days
eye contact was all we needed as we branded cows
shiny cars, dancing boots, and city clothes got in your head
did my best riding the back forty to keep rustlers at bay
mending barbed wire fences and looking for strays
lonely nights on the range with you home far away
should a been with you every anniversary day
boys grew up seeking life easier that a cowboy’s day-to-day
daughter died of whooping cough, pneumonia, measles or such
farm loan and debts built up, didn’t leave our family much
sunrises and sunsets are beautiful to watch, but they don’t pay
just leave the stable door open as you ride away
you won’t see the tears roll down my eyes
hoping you can’t hear my softly muffled cries
how do I go on, how do I face another day