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 callHe rides in the sun

'Til his days work is done

And he rounds up the cattle each fall

Singing his cattle callFor 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 callHe's browned as a berry

From riding the prairie

And he sings with an old western drawl

Singing his cattle call