There

is

a

young

cow-

boy,

he

lives

on

the

range.

His

horse

and

his

cat-

tle

are

his

on-

ly

com-

pan-

'nions.

He

works

in

the

sad-

dle

and

he

sleeps

in

the

can-

yons,

wait-

ing

for

sum-

mer

his

pas-

tures

to

change.

And

as

the

moon

ri-

ses

he

sits

by

his

fi-

re.

Think-

ing

a-

bout

wo-

men

and

glass-

es

of

beer.

Clos-

ing

his

eyes

as

the

dog-

gies

re-

tire-

,

he

sings

out

a

song

which

is

soft

but

it's

clear,

as

if

may-

be

some-

one

could

hear.

Good-

night

you

moon-

light

la-

dies.

Rock-

a-

bye

sweet

ba-

by

James.

Deep

greens

and

blues

are

the

co-

lours

I-

choose.

Won't

you

let

me

go

down

in

my

dreams.

And

rock-

a-

bye

sweet

ba-

by

James.

Now

the

first

of

Dec-

em-

ber

was

cov-

ered

in

snow.

So

was

the

turn-

pike

from

Stock-

bridge

to

Bos-

ton.

Well

the

Berk-

shire

seemed

dream-

like

on

ac-

count

of

that

frost-

ing

with

ten

miles

be-

hind

me

and

ten

thou-

sand

more

to

go--

.

There's

a

song

that

they

sing

when

they

take

to

the

high-

way.

A

song

that

they

sing

when

they

take

to

the

sea.

A

song

that

they

sing

of

their

home

in

the

sky.

May-

be

you

can

be-

lieve

it

if

it

helps

you

to

see,

that

sing-

ing

was

just

fine

for

me.

Good-

night

you

moon-

light

la-

dies.

Rock-

a-

bye

sweet

ba-

by

James.

Deep

greens

and

blues

are

the

co-

lours

I-

choose.

Won't

you

let

me

go

down

in

my

dreams.

And

rock-

a-

bye

sweet

ba-

by

James.