Well, there is a young cowboy he lives on the range
His horse and his cattle are his [bad word] He works in the saddle and he sleeps in the canyons
Just waiting for Summer, his pastures to change

And as the moon rises he sits by his fire
Thinking 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
 [bad word] 
Goodnight you moonlight ladies
Rockabye sweet baby James
Deep greens and blues are the colours I choose
Won't you let me go down in my dreams
And rockabye sweet baby James

Now the first of December was covered with snow
And so was the turnpike from Stockbridge to Boston
Though the Berkshires seemed dream-like on account of that frosting
With ten miles behind me and ten thousand more to go

There's a song that they sing when they take to the highway
song that they sing when they take to the sea
song that they sing of their home in the sky
Maybe you can believe it if it helps you to see
That singing works just fine for me

- [bad word] -
So, Goodnight you moonlight ladies
Rockabye sweet baby James
Deep greens and blues are the colours I choose
Won't you let me go down in my dreams
And rockabye sweet baby James