to the plains of old Wyoming
It was said he'd come over the hill
Bird and doggies and the needles
in the sand in old Washington
and I know he always will
Can you think of a friend
that you might have known
If you throw your heart out open,
never driftin' in the cold
By the light of the campfire,
one dim in the late hour,
He called me his old horny pal.
He said his handsome critter,
in his hamly form fitter,
but he wrote mighty tall.
He was a narrow -string rider,
but the plain they weren't no quieter
the cross -eyed gale upon the hill
Can you think of a friend
that you might have known
If he'd throwed your heart out open,
never drifted in the cold
By the light of the campfire
growing dim in the late ever,
he called me his old Waddy
With his head upon his saddle
he would talk of the battles that he
fought in the old Civil War
He had seen his share of danger,
To him the work, it weren't no stranger,
and his smile is with me still.
Can you think of a friend
that you might have known,
Never drifting in the cold?
By the light of the campfire
growin' dim in the late hour
He called me his old Waddy pal
By the light of the campfire
growin' dim in the late hour
He's gone now, my old Waddy pal you
