high on a mountain in western montana with a silhouette moon \'cross the cinnamon sky ridin\' along on a horse called music with a song on his lips and a tear in his eye.
he dreams of a time and a lady who loved him, and how he would sing her a sweet lullaby, but we don\'t ever ask him, and he never talks about her. i guess it\'s just better that we just let it slide
chorus: and he\'d sing ooooh to the lady, and oooooh to the gray summer sky. and he\'d ride away, on a horse called music, with a pain in his heart, and a tear in his eye.
he rode music from boston to bozman, for not too much money, but way too much ride. but those were the days when a horse called music could jump through the moon, and sail across the sky. what i was left, is a time-old worn cowboy. with nothin\' more, than the sweet by and by trailin\' behind, was a horse with no rider a horse he called memories, she used to ride.
chorus
high on a mountain in western montana, with two crosses cut, in the cinnamon sky, markin\' a place, where a horse called music grazed with the cowboys in the sweet by and by
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