There i s a young cowb oy he l ives on the r ange.
His h orse and his c attle are his o nly co mpanion.
He wo rks in the s addle and he s leeps in the c anyon.
W aiting for s ummer, his p astures to c hange.
And a s the moon rises he s its by his f ire.
T hinkin' about w omen and g lasses of b eer.
C losing his eyes as the d oggies ret ire
He s ings out a s ong which is s oft but it's c lear
As i f maybe s omeone could h ear.
G oodnight you m oonlight l adie s.
R ock-a-bye s weet baby J ames.
D eep greens and b lues are the c olors I c hoose.
Won't you l et me go down in my dreams.
And r ock-a-bye s weet baby J ames.
Now the first of De cember was covered with snow.
And so was the turnpike from Stockridge to Boston.
Lord the Berkshires seemed dreamlike on a ccount of that frosting.
With ten miles be hind me and ten thousand more to go.
There's a song that they sing when they take to the highway.
A song that they sing when they take to the sea.
A song that they sing of their ho me in the sk y.
Maybe you can be lieve it if it helps you to sleep.
But singing works just fine for me.
G oodnight you m oonlight l adie s.
R ock-a-bye s weet baby J ames.
D eep greens and b lues are the c olors I c hoose.
Won't you l et me go d own in my d reams.
And r ock-a-bye s weet baby J ames.