An old cowpoke went riden' 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
A-plowin' thru the ragged skies,
And up a cloudy draw.
Ghost Riders in the Sky.
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 thru him,
As they thundered thru the sky,
For he saw the riders commin’ hard,
And he heard their mournful cry.
Their faces gaunt, their eyes all blurred
Their shirts all soaked with sweat
They're ridin' hard to catch that herd
But they ain't caught 'em yet;
For they've got to ride forever,
In that range up in the sky,
On horses breathing fire,
As they ride on, hear their cry.
As the riders loped on past him,
He heard one call his name,
"If you want to save your soul from hell
A-ridin' on our range,
Then cowboy,change your way today,
Or with us you will ride,
A-tryin' to catch the Devil's herd,
Across these endless skies."