In the fields under the horizon,
Where the sky meets the endless blue,
I ride on my old wooden saddle,
With a heart that's always true.
The wind whispers a gentle melody,
A song that carries my soul so high,
Each note dancing through the tall grass,
As I let my spirit fly.
The sun sets softly on the valley,
Painting colors like a painter's brush,
In this simple life, there's magic,
In each quiet breath, in every rush.
I hear the crickets start their calling,
As the stars begin to shine,
In the stillness, I find my solace,
With the universe intertwined.
Oh, take me back to those wild moments,
When laughter filled the air with grace,
We'll write our dreams in the shadows,
And hold onto love’s sweet embrace.
So here's to the fields that hold our memories,
To the windy nights where our hearts belong,
We'll keep riding until the morning light,
Forever living our own country song.
In the fields under this vast horizon,
We'll weave a tale that can't go wrong.
As long as we’re here, together forever,
We’ll find our way, singing our song.
Country
fields, song, saddle, horizon, wind