---

An old cowboy went riding out

one dark and windy day.

Upon a ridge he rested

as he went along his way.

When all at once a mighty

herd of red-eyed cows he saw,

plowing through the ragged skies

and up a cloudy draw.

Their brands were still on fire

and their hooves were made of steel.

Their horns were black and shiny

and their hot breath he could feel.

A bolt of fear went through him

as they thundered through the sky,

for he saw the riders coming hard

and he heard their mournful cries.

Ghost riders in the sky!

Their faces gaunt,

their eyes were blurred,

their shirts all soaked with sweat.

He's riding hard

to catch that herd,

but he ain't caught 'em yet.

'Cause they got to ride forever

on that range up in the sky,

on horses snorting fire,

as they ride on hear their cries.

As the riders loped on by him

he heard one call his name.

"If you wanna save your soul

from Hell a-riding on our range,

then cowboy change your ways today

or with us you will ride!

Trying to catch the Devil's herd

across these endless skies..."

Ghost riders in the sky...