James H. Smith


Pardon me Ma’am, you ask why my hats pulled low
Well I guess it’s to hide my feelings, so the world won’t know

There are times a small tear comes to my eye
Guess I could explain, but I don’t know why

Cowboys don’t cry, so I was told from a young age
Only those are the cowboys from the golden stage

I remember Andy telling me, after I cut my hand on my first pocketknife
That cuts a long way from your heart boy; there will be a lot worse hurts in life

Andy a grey haired rancher, at the time I thought him older then dirt
Now that I’ve passed his number of years, I’ve found life full of both joy and hurt

I remember a tear of joy as I first held each of my son’s
Also a tear shed for his battles of life he had yet to be run

Battle scared and combat worn, a tear for a friend who gave it all
I ask as I touch his stone, why you and not I who had to fall

At his side I pull my grey hat with the wide brim low as I stand humbly there
So no one can see the glisten in my thousand-yard stare

Well I got all broke up in a bad horse fall
Remember it’s along way from my heart, not a tear was shed a-tall

Tears shed for a few friends human and animal who have passed along life’s way
They were close to my heart, but no one here will forever stay

I sit here my best bud asleep at my feet, a little black dog, a Schipperke by fame
He got old and grey too quick, this friend who touches my heart, Jasper his name

My heart aches as I watch him sleep and know there will come a day
I will awake one morning, and find another friend has passed along the way

Two years ago, but seems like only yesterday, I wrote that last line
Jasper passed this morning took a part of me with him, he was ready, it was his time

So there are times I keep this wide brim hat pulled low over my eyes
So others can’t know, Yes Ma’am cowboys do cry