Sweet Baby James (2).kar

There is a young cowboy, he lives on the range.
His horse and his cattle are his only companions.

He works in the saddle
and he sleeps in the canyons,
waiting for summer, his pastures to change.

And as the moon rises, he sits by his fire,
thinkin' about women and glasses of beer.

And closing his eyes as the dogies retire,
he sings out a song which is soft, but it's clear,
as if maybe someone could hear.

Goodnight, you moonlight ladies.
Rock-a-bye, sweet Baby James.

Deep greens and blues are the colors I choose.
Won't you let me go down in my dreams
and rock-a-bye sweet Baby James.

Now the first of December
was covered with snow,
so was the turnpike from Stockbridge to Boston.

Though the Berkshires seemed dreamlike
on account of that frostin',

with ten miles behind me
and ten thousand more to go ooh-wo.

There's a song that they sing
when they take to the highway,

a song that they sing when they take to the sea,
a song that they sing of their home in the sky.

Maybe you can believe it if it helps you to sleep.
The singing works just fine for me.

So, goodnight, you moonlight ladies.
Rock-a-bye, sweet Baby James.

Deep greens and blues are the colors I choose.
Won't you let me go down in my dreams
and rock-a-bye sweet Baby James.