Chris Ledoux
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There's a silence on the prairie; That a man can't help but feel
Shadows growing longer now; Nipping at my heels
I know that soon that old four-lane; That runs beneath my wheels
Will take me home; to my Sweet Wyoming Home.

I headed down the road last summer; With a few good friends of mine
They all hit the money, Lord; I didn't make a dime.
The entry fees they took my dough; the travlin' took my time;
And I'm headed home; to my Sweet Wyoming Home

Watch the moon; smiling in the sky
Hum a tune; Prairie lullaby;
Hear the wind; And old coyoties cry
A song of home; Sweet Wyoming Home

Now the rounders they all wish you luck; When they know you're in a jam
But your money's ridin' on the bull; And he don't give a damn
Well there's shows in all the cities; Cities turn your heart to clay
Takes all a man can muster; Just to try and get away
The songs I'm used to hearin'; Ain't the kind the jukebox play
And I'm headed home; To my Sweet Wyoming Home

Interlude

Well I've always loved the ridin'; There ain' t nothing quite the same
Another year might bring me luck; Win in another game
There's a magpie on a fencerail; That's callin' out my name
And he calls me home, To my Sweet Wyoming Home

Watch the moon; smiling in the sky
Hum a tune; Prairie lullaby;
Hear the wind; And old coyoties cry
A song of home; Sweet Wyoming Home
It's a song of Home, Sweet Wyoming Home


Mirror lyrics:

It's a song of Home, Sweet Wyoming Home
A song of home; Sweet Wyoming Home
Hear the wind; And old coyoties cry
Hum a tune; Prairie lullaby;
Watch the moon; smiling in the sky

And he calls me home, To my Sweet Wyoming Home
There's a magpie on a fencerail; That's callin' out my name
Another year might bring me luck; Win in another game
Well I've always loved the ridin'; There ain' t nothing quite the same

Interlude

And I'm headed home; To my Sweet Wyoming Home
The songs I'm used to hearin'; Ain't the kind the jukebox play
Takes all a man can muster; Just to try and get away
Well there's shows in all the cities; Cities turn your heart to clay
But your money's ridin' on the bull; And he don't give a damn
Now the rounders they all wish you luck; When they know you're in a jam

A song of home; Sweet Wyoming Home
Hear the wind; And old coyoties cry
Hum a tune; Prairie lullaby;
Watch the moon; smiling in the sky

And I'm headed home; to my Sweet Wyoming Home
The entry fees they took my dough; the travlin' took my time;
They all hit the money, Lord; I didn't make a dime.
I headed down the road last summer; With a few good friends of mine

Will take me home; to my Sweet Wyoming Home.
I know that soon that old four-lane; That runs beneath my wheels
Shadows growing longer now; Nipping at my heels
There's a silence on the prairie; That a man can't help but feel


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