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I'd like to be in Texas
In the lobby of a big hotel, in New York town one day,
Sat a bunch of fellers tellin' yarns to pass the time away.
They told of places they had been and different things they'd seen.
Some preferred Chicago town and others New Orleans.
In a corner, in an old arm chair, sat a man whose hair
was gray.
He listened to them eagerly, to what they had to say.
They asked him where he'd like to be and his clear old voice did ring.
I'd like to be in Texas for the roundup in the spring.
(chorus)
I can see the cattle grazing o'er the hills at early
morn;
I can see the campfire smoking at the breaking of the dawn.
I can hear the broncos neighing, I can hear the cowboys sing
I'd like to be in Texas for the roundup in the spring.
They sat and listened carefully to what he had
to say
For they new the old man sitting there had been a top hand in his day.
They asked him for a story of his life out on the plains,
Slowly he removed his hat and quietly began.
"I've seen 'em stampede over hills till you'd think they'd never
stop,
I've seen 'em run for miles and miles until their leaders dropped,
I was Forman on a cow ranch, the callin of a king.
I'd like to be in Texas for the roundup in the spring.
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