By Roy Rogers
Lord, I reckon I’m not much just by myself,
I fail to do a lot of things I ought to do.
But Lord, when trails are steep and passes high,
Help me ride it straight the whole way through.
And when in the falling dusk I get that final call,
I do not care how many flowers they send.
Above all else, the happiest trail will be,
For YOU to say to me, “Let’s ride, My Friend.”
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