Lonesome Western Heart

By Rocky Steen-Rolfzen & Jeff Rolfzen

I grew up on the rugged frontier, the rugged frontier I'm from

About ten miles south of the general store stood our prairie farm.

Rows of corn would grow as far as the eye could see.

The wind was always blowing, the scent of the grass was sweet.

Only memories remain about living out on the open range

And with them I shall cradle my lonesome western heart.

Times grew tough on the rugged frontier when a swarm of locusts got to our crops.

Spent the rest of the summer waiting on rain but never felt a single drop

So we packed up the farm and left to the city

Where I've spent my days working at a mill by the mighty Mississippi.

Only memories remain about living out on the open range

And with them I shall cradle my lonesome western heart.

I went back to the rugged frontier caught an early morning train from Saint Paul.

Cut around the badlands and north of the hills to the place where I come from.

The general store was boarded up and the school house was a museum

And the trail to my old prairie farm was blocked off by a no trespassing sign.

And only memories remain about living out on the open range

And with them I shall cradle my lonesome western heart.