She was painting a picture of slum life when the
cowboy came limping by Wearing tattered old boots
with one sole gone and a far away look in his eye
Well he watched for a while as she painted and
then he said mama you surely paint well Yes you
got all this on your canvas the dirt the squalor
and the hell Well she asked to paint him in the
setting ah but he shook his head slowly and low He
said naw I wont fit your picture unless you can
paint be back home Can you paint me back home in
Wyoming riding free neath the big sky above Free
as the wind on the prairie out in the hills that I
love I long to get back to Wyoming and I've hoped
all these years that I can Please paint me back
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Well I never claimed this festered city You know I
was raised on a ranch out in the west I spent my
young years bustin' horses and boy they said I
could ride with the best So I came here to Madison
Square Garden to ride in the big rodeo Ah but I
got stepped on and all crippled up and chute bronc
bustin' is all I know Ah boy if I could just get
back to Wyoming I wouldn't feel so alone Ah but
the pain is too much for the roamin' so please can
you paint me back home Can you paint me back home
in Wyoming...