Under The Phantom Moon

The high hawk knows where the rabbit goes

And the buzzard marks the kill

But few there be with eyes to see

The tall men riding still

We hark in vain on the speeding train

For an echo of hoofbeat thunder

And the yellow wheat is a winding sheet

For cattle trails plowed under

Hoofdust flies at the low moon's rise

And the bullbat's lonesome whir

Is an echoed note from the longhorn throat,

A steer as it were

Inch by inch, time draws the cinch,

Till the saddles creak no more

And they the lords of the cattle hordes

Shall tally a final score

Oh the tall men riding

Under the phantom moon

Oh the tall men riding

Hoofbeats like hammers of doom

This is the song that the night birds sing

As the phantom herds trail by

Horn by horn where the long plains throw

Flat miles to the sky

And this is the song that the night birds wail

Where the texas plains lie wide

Over the dust of a ghostly trail

Where the phantom tall men ride