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At 6:30 Mountain Daylight Time,
We saddled up to ride out,
Gathering cows in the east pasture,
There was laughter all about.
Julie was grousing the coffee was cold,
I was checking my cinch,
Jerry was complaining about his back,
I sucked the mare up another inch.
We were looking for about 60 pairs,
Everything was status quo,
But our innocence hung in the balance,
How were we to know?
It wasn't until dinner break,
Tory caught up with the herd,
He had rode out 'most ten miles,
At a gallop to spread the word,
"At seven o'clock our time
It was nine in NYC,
The most awful thing has happened,
Y'all got to get back and see."
"Hold up," said Jerry.
"Slow down," says I.
Only Julie understood,
And she started to cry.
"We're under attack,
The Trade Center's gone,
They've hijacked planes,
They've hit the Pentagon!"
We listened in shock, then anger,
Then horror and dismay,
Then, like all good cowboys,
We bowed our heads to pray.
We prayed for victims,
For families, for friends,
Prayed for our President,
And all his good men.
We prayed for freedom,
And for wisdom and peace,
We prayed for souls,
That hadn't found release.
And when we were done,
All our tears spent,
We mounted up our ponies,
And pushed horns to the West.
And that night around the fire,
We sang "Amazing Grace",
And "God Bless America",
Not a dry eye on the place.
We thought about Wyoming,
And New York, far away,
And the man who's hatred,
Took our innocence away.
Twenty years from now, they'll ask me,
Where I was that fateful day,
And I'll tell 'em how the cowboys,
All bowed our heads to pray.
September, 2001
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