I woke on March the 17th
And fumbled for me hat,
And found when I had put it on
It was quite tall and flat.
A rainbow graced the morning sky
And seemed to beckon me.
So, on my cold-backed steed I rode
Toward some great destiny.
No sooner had I left the yard
Me cayuse humped his back,
And soon I found me lying in
A verdant shamrock patch.
Me bed of three-leaf clovers,
Was a sign I knew.
And when I finally caught me horse
Found he had lost a shoe!
The rainbow now had disappeared,
Gold I hadn’t struck.
I turned and headed home afoot
And cussed me Irish luck.
Conserving rangeland’s what I do.
It’s what I do the best.
Me rainbow chasin’ days are done;
I ride to save the west!
Help save the west with California Rangeland Trust!
