Sheb Wooley The Lonely Man
Who knows what sorrows abide In the heart of a strange lonely man
He was born with an urge to roam And he never had a home of his own He was slender and tall the strange man they call The Drifter
He must drift evermore on the range For that old wanderlust in his veins Makes him strangely akin to the strong restless wind That blows
On cold and lonely nights after his campfire dies He dreams of someone dear and a home of his own But when the new day dawns all of his dreams are gone For the lonely trail is all he's ever known
As he rides neath the sun day by day And he's searching to find the way Over hot burnin' sand that tortures a lonely man
Who knows what sorrows abide In the heart of a strange lonely man
