Down in the state of New Mexico
Is a place that I long to be
It’s a little home that I call my own
Where a mother is waiting for me.
She’s the finest pal that a man ever had
And as true as stars above
Feeble and old but as pure as gold
And that’s the sweetheart that I love.
I can see there in that same old chair
Watching down the lane
For her wandering boy who’s her only joy
To come riding home again.
That’s why I long to go back to New Mexico
Where a man can be a man
To cook my meals on a chuckwagon fire
And boil my coffee in a can
I long to ride the ranges day after day
And to breathe the blooms of the sage
To sleep at nite under stars so bright
And draw a cowboy’s wage.
I want to feel the comfort of my boots and spurs
My chaps and my sombrero
I want to punch the cattle
Hear their hoofs and horns rattle
Down in New Mexico.
For permission to record Bob Nolan's music, contact: The Songwriter’s Guild of America