Sweet Baby James

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There is a young cowboy, he lives on the range,
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His horse and his cattle are his only companions,
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He works in the saddle and he sleeps in the canyons,
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Waiting for summer, his pastures to change.

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And as the moon rises he sits by his fire,
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Thinking about women and glasses of beer,
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And closing his eyes as the doggies retire,
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He sings out a song which is soft but it's clear,
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As if maybe someone could hear. 

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He says goodnight you moonlight ladies, 
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Rock-a-bye sweet baby James,
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Deep greens and blues are the colors I choose,
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Won't you let me go down in my dreams,
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And rock-a-by sweet baby James.


Well the first of December was covered with snow,
And so was the turnpike from Stockbridge to Boston,
The Birkshires seemed dream-like on account of that
frostin',
With ten miles behind 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 home in the sky,
Maybe you can believe it, if it helps you to sleep,
But singing works just fine for me.

Refrao