Written by; Charles "Badger" Clark
Don Edwards put this one to music.
The Christmas Trail; 4/4
(C) The wind is blowin cold down the moun (F) tain tips of (C) snow
And lyin 'cross the ranges brown and (G) dead
It's (C) cryin through the valley trees that (F) wear the mistle (C) toe
And mournin with the gray (G) clouds over (C) head
Yet it's (F) sweet with the (G) beat of my (C) little horses (Am) feet
And I (F) whistle like the (G) air is warm and (C) blue
For I'm (F) ridin up the christ (G) mas trail to (C) you old (Am) folks
I'm (F) ridin up the christ (G) mas trail to (C) you
Oh maybe it was good when the whinny of the spring
Had wheeled me to hopin of the bars
And livin in the shadow of a sailin buzzards wing
And sleepin underneath a roof of stars
But the bright campfire light only dances for a night
While the home fire burns forever clear and true
So round the year I circle back to you old folks
Round the rovin year I circle back to you
Oh maybe it was good at the roundup in the fall
When the clouds of bawlin dust before us ran
And the pride of rope and saddle was the drivin of us all
To a stretch of nerve and muscle man to man
But the pride sorta died when the man got weary eyed
Was a sleepy boy who rode the night guard through
And he dreamed himself along a trail to you old folks
Dreamed himself along a happy trail to you
The coyotes winter howl cuts the dusk behind the hill
And the ranch's shinnin window I can see
And though I don't deserve it and I reckon never will
There'll be room beside the fire kept for me
Skimp my plate cause I'm late, let me hit the old home gate
Cause I'm growin kinda tired of the new
So I'm ridin up the christmas trail to you old folks
I'm ridin up the christmas trail to you
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