From the recording Frontier

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There was a voice memo in my phone from several years ago after observing the ropers at the Moorman Ranch Branding in Nevada. I was struck by the idea that in the cowboy culture you can earn a place among the “native sons” with steady effort and time. My voice memo contained the first few lines of this song and it earned it's way on to the final project.


Heard about a land where the cowboys king. Taped a picture on the wall from a magazine.
Got a renegade heart beating in his chest. Gonna beg, steal of borrow his way out West.

In a sea of sage, rolling on and on, gonna learn the ways of a native son.
Gonna turn the heads of all who see him and he’s riding on a horse that they call Freedom.

Horseback men are made by the mile. Throw a leg over with a squint and a smile.
No paper money can pay them dues. Just dragging calves and building loops.

He’s been known to be thrown by some wild ones. Horses, like men, have the rough and the mild ones.
Never know what they got inside them, till you saddle up and ride them.

So whistle down the wind and spur him to a lope. Earn his keep by saddle and rope.
Day ain’t over till the work is done out here in the land of earth and sun.