Lyrics:

1998**lf**Writer: Michael Martin Murphey**lf****lf**My foots in my stirrup and my bridles in my hand**lf**Good morning young ladies, my pony won''t stand**lf**Goodbye old Paint, I''m a leavin'' Cheyenne**lf**Goodbye old Paint, I''m a leavin'' Cheyenne**lf****lf**Old horse, your days are numbered**lf**Your race is almost run**lf**But I wouldn''t sell or trade ya, old horse**lf**Because of the things you''ve done**lf****lf**Just what I''m gonna do with you sure has got me treed**lf**But I promise you one thing, ol'' pard,**lf**They''ll never round you up to be dog food or chicken feed**lf****lf**Who was once so toppy**lf**So pretty, so proud, so grand**lf**Well, your called a public nucance now**lf**By the folks who run this land**lf****lf**They say away with useless horses**lf**That almost makes me weep**lf**Away with useless horse**lf**Make a little more room for sheep**lf****lf**And you crippled yourself in the ankle, old horse**lf**Runnin'' the last wolf off this range**lf**And now, theres no room for you, old horse**lf**My God, some folks are strange**lf****lf**Well, we''ve seen many tough times together**lf**And though you weren''t always fit**lf**You carried me through some tight places, old pard**lf**You was never known to quit**lf****lf**Up trails that were wantenly winding**lf**And down slides unGodly steep**lf**Through quicksand or snow, if I wanted to go**lf**Or rivers wide and deep**lf****lf**And you crippled yourself in the ankle, old horse**lf**Ya, you took some pretty hard spills**lf**Runnin'' precariously over the rough old hills**lf****lf**But I can''t hold that against you, old horse**lf**How were you to know**lf**If a smooth rock was layin'' there under a little fresh snow**lf****lf**How could you see a wash drifted over in winter**lf**Or per chance, a miniture lake**lf**Froozen and covered, pretty hard to see**lf**Well, these are chances cow ponies take**lf****lf**That day the bumble bee stung you**lf**You blamed it on to me**lf**And droppin'' your head pretty quick**lf**You throwd me into a tree**lf****lf**I was mad as I could be for a moment**lf**And then I saw the welts on you**lf**And I thought, well old boy, I guess**lf**You done about the same as I would do**lf****lf**And now, we''re ridin'' up against a hard one now, old horse**lf**And it could be we''re ridin'' for a fall**lf**But I''m gonna hold on to you anyhow**lf**In spite of all their gall**lf****lf**I guess I''ll stake a homestead over yonder on Bitter Creek**lf**And build for you a pasture that''ll make you fat and slick**lf**Away with useless horses they say**lf**Useless old horses if you please**lf****lf**Well, they won''t ever see that old bad ankle, old horse**lf**Your gonna be in grass way up past your knees