D
I rode across a valley range
   G                D
I hadn't seen for years
      D
The trail was all so spoilt and strange
                        A
It nearly fetched the tears
   D
I had to let ten fences down
      G               D
The fussy lanes ran wrong
     D
And each new line would make me frown
     A                 G            D
And hum this mournin' song

[Chorus]

G     G                           D
Mhm, hear 'em stretchin' of the wire
     D
The urban brand is on the land
                A
I reckon I'll retire
         D
While progress toots her greedy horn
    G                D
And makes her motor buzz
    D
I thanks the Lord I wasn't born
     A           G             D
No later than I was

[Verse]

        D
'Twas good to live when all the sod
    G                 D
Without no fence or fuss
   D
Belonged in partnership with God
                      A
Mother Nature and to us
         D
Where skyline bounds from east to west
     G              D
And room to go and come
    D
I loved my fellow man the best
     A                 G          D
When he was scattered some

[Chorus]

G       G                          D
Mhm, closer and closer crawls the wire
          D
There's hardly place to step away
                  A
And call a man a liar
        D
Their house has locks on every door
       G             D
Their land is in a crate
        D
These ain't the plains of God no more
          A         G            D
They're only real estate

[Verse]

      D
When my old soul hunts range and rest
  G               D
Beyond the last divide
       D
Just plant me in some stretch of West
                 A
Sunny, lone and wide
      D
Let cattle rub the tombstone round
      G                  D
And coyotes mourn their kin
      D
Let horses come and paw the moun'
      A                 G          D
But don't you fence it in

[Chorus]

G     G                           D
Mhm, far and farther flings the wire
     D
To crowd and pinch another inch
                          A
It's all their heart's desire
      D
The world is overstocked with men
      G                D
And some will see the day
      D
When each must keep his little pen
      A          G
But I'll be far away

[Verse]

G    G   D
Mhm Mhm Mhm
 D
Mhm
 A
Mhm
        D
While progress toots her greedy horn
      G              D
And makes her motor buzz
    D
I thanks the Lord I wasn't born
     A           G
No later than I was