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.
Hundreds of Bob Nolan's songs were lost in a garage fire so we are constantly on the lookout for bits and pieces he left with friends. He wrote on whatever paper was handy when the spirit moved him - and left them behind. He also had girlfriends copy lyrics out for him because he was embarrassed about his poor spelling. This lyric sheet was found in a collection of Bob Nolan compositions and ephemera of Frances Shepp Irvine (Longstreet), one of his close friends who wrote an article about him.
We are in the process of researching the writer. It is possible that Bob dictated it to one of his friends because it is definitely not his handwriting. It is equally possible that someone else wrote it. Because of the provenance, we will assume it is his and include it as a possible Nolan song until we learn otherwise.
We invite the reader to contact us if you have any information at all about this lyric.