I often have wandered in deep contemplation,
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It seems that the mind runs wild when you're all alone.
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The way that it could be, the ways that it should be.
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Things I'd do differently if I could do them again.
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I've always loved spring time, the passing of winter.
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The green of the new leaves and life going on.
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The promise of morning, The long days of summer,
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warm nights of loving her beneath the bright stars.
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I'm just an old cowboy from high Colorado, too old to ride anymore, too blind to see.
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I sleep in the city now, away from my mountains, away from the cabin we always called home.
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I dreamed I left there on an old palomino. Whispering Jesse rode right by my side.
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I long to hold her, to hear her soft breathing, the touch of her cool hand on my fevered brow.
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Whispering Jesse still rides in the mountains, still sings in the canyons, still lives in my heart.
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Whispering Jesse
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| John Denver |
