Grab Your Saddle Horn and Blow

When I feel the urge I got to travel

Anywhere the tumbleweeds grow.

Happy when my feet are scratchin’ gravel,

I grab my saddle horn and blow.

You may think a certain place has got me

And from there I never will go.

But, you son of a gun, I’ll bet a hundred to one

I grab my saddle horn and blow.

I’ve been all around this country.

Guess I’ve traveled everywhere.

Been from coast to coast and way down south.

I know the tang of frosty air.

I like the feel of saddle leather.

I like the way my pony sways.

As he moves along, I’ll sing this song

And go rovin’ all the rest of my days.

When I feel the urge I got to travel

Anywhere the tumbleweeds grow.

Happy when my feet are scratchin’ gravel,

I grab my saddle horn and blow.

You may think a certain place has got me

And from there I never will go.

But, you son of a gun, I’ll bet a hundred to one

I grab my saddle horn and blow.

For permission to record Bob Nolan's music, contact: The Songwriter’s Guild of America

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