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When The Cactus Is In Bloom

Höfundur lags: Jimmie Rodgers Höfundur texta: Jimmie Rodgers Flytjandi: Bill Monroe Sent inn af: Anonymous
[C]The cattle prowled and the coyotes howled
[F]Out on the Great Divide
I [C]never done no wrong just singing a song
[D7]As down the trail I ride

[C]The rattlesnakes rattle at the prairie dogs
[F]Don't you hear that mournful tune
For [C]it's roundup time away out West
When the [G7]cactus are in [C]bloom


Daylight comes and the cowhands yell
[F]They call out every man
I [G7]throw my saddle on my old cow-horse
I drink my coffee from a [C]can  


The sun goes down on the cattle trail
[F]I'm gazing at the moon
For [C]it's roundup time away out West
When the [G7]cactus are in [C]bloom


We don't have cold weather
[F]It never snows or rains
That [C]is where the sunshine's best
[D7]Out on the western plains

[C]Some of the boys have gone away
[F]But they will be back soon
For [C]it's roundup time away out West
When the [G7]cactus are in [C]bloom


Daylight comes and the cowhands yell
[F]They call out every man
I [G7]throw my saddle on my old cow-horse
I drink my coffee from a [C]can  


The sun goes down on the cattle trail
[F]I'm gazing at the moon
For [C]it's roundup time away out West
When the [G7]cactus are in [C]bloom

The cattle prowled and the coyotes howled
Out on the Great Divide
I never done no wrong just singing a song
As down the trail I ride

The rattlesnakes rattle at the prairie dogs
Don't you hear that mournful tune
For it's roundup time away out West
When the cactus are in bloom

Daylight comes and the cowhands yell
They call out every man
I throw my saddle on my old cow-horse
I drink my coffee from a can

The sun goes down on the cattle trail
I'm gazing at the moon
For it's roundup time away out West
When the cactus are in bloom

We don't have cold weather
It never snows or rains
That is where the sunshine's best
Out on the western plains

Some of the boys have gone away
But they will be back soon
For it's roundup time away out West
When the cactus are in bloom

Daylight comes and the cowhands yell
They call out every man
I throw my saddle on my old cow-horse
I drink my coffee from a can

The sun goes down on the cattle trail
I'm gazing at the moon
For it's roundup time away out West
When the cactus are in bloom

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