There’s an old man in the foothills
And if he ain’t dead, he’s living there still
Loved them little cuttin’ horses
All his life
That’s a high dollar habit
He don’t mind, he’s financed it
Building songs
and losing wives
You won’t get much on mountain time
Except older and a thicker hide
You the empty
little songs
There’s a lady on the highline
She’s fighting drought and her own mind
Day by she’s losing
To the wind
Cause between the price feed
And the moisture she don’t see
A gal considers selling out
Or pitting in
You not a soul for days
On them high and plains
You the empty
little songs
You the empty
little songs
You the empty
little songs
