Şarkı Sözleri

While drivin' a herd of cattle out in old Nebraska way
Headin' east at Broken Bow one hot September day
Tryin' to get to Omaha we hoped to find a buyer
We never counted in the odds of a western prairie fire

A hot south wind was blowin' and the air was gettin' dry
Somethin' far away was spellin' trouble in the sky
Comin' closer was a sound that topped the devil's choir
Then we knew we had to race a raging prairie fire

When all at once a flame is seen a lickin' at the sky
And every heart is quicker and there's fear in every eye
We'd just one chance to get away for there's no place to hide
Gotta reach the river Platte one inch deep and one mile wide

The herd is gettin' tired but we've got no time to rest
I try to clear the red dust that is gatherin' in my chest
From ridin' tail on a thousand head with the weather gettin' dry