[Intro: Desert-rock male lead, whistled melody, reverb-soaked low guitar] Dust on the mesa and a grey shape movin' high Every man in the county's got a rope and a reason why [Verse 1: Desert-rock male lead, big rolling tom drums, wide desert-rock vocal] She came down off the rimrock in the spring of a dry year Grey as a gun barrel and she wouldn't let a man near Hollis tried a lariat and now he's walkin' with a cane Tucker tried with sugar cubes and she stomped him in the lane The Ochoa boys tried three at once, they're still pickin' out the burrs Every saddle in the valley's got a story, and it's hers Then the rancher knocked at sundown with an envelope of cash Said break her by the first of June, I'll double it, and fast I took the money and a halter and a canteen and a hat Walked out on the flats where she was standin', and I sat [Verse 2: Desert-rock male lead, reverb-soaked low guitar, rolling desert-rock drums] First week she wouldn't look at me, just watched me from the ridge Second week she came down close enough to drink below the bridge Third week I would whistle low and she would flick her ears to hear Fourth week she took an apple off my hat brim and stood near Fifth week we walked the fence line side by side without a rope And I could feel the heat come off her like a stove that's burnin' slow Sixth week I set the saddle on the fence and didn't move 'Cause if I ever cinched it down there'd be nothin' left to prove [Hook: Desert-rock male lead, full band, huge desert-rock hook] Swing the gate wide, let her run for the hills Some things you don't break, you just stand there still Grey on the mesa and dust in the sun Ain't no money in the county worth more than watchin' her run [Verse 3: Desert-rock male lead, hoofbeat toms, a galloping tom pattern comes in under the band and keeps running] First of June the rancher's truck came rattlin' up the drive Trailer on the hitch and a grin like he had won a prize I walked her to the corral and I felt her watchin' me Rancher reachin' for his wallet, sayin' son, I knew you'd see And I flipped the latch and swung that gate as wide as it would go Gave her one slap on the shoulder and I told her go on home She was gone before he dropped his coffee, gone before he yelled Dust a mile high on the rimrock, every hoof a ringin' bell Then I handed back the envelope and walked the long way round Some things are worth more runnin' than they ever are tied down [Final Hook: Desert-rock male lead, full band, galloping drums, whistled melody on top] Swing the gate wide, let her run for the hills Some things you don't break, you just stand there still Grey on the mesa and dust in the sun Ain't no money in the county worth more than watchin' her run [End]
