Being of earth and weed
I roll by your over grown roads,
picking up dust.
Dust and twig crash
over and over again,
as I pick up speed.

Soon this barren land will have my seed,
bushes will grow into bushels of weeds.
My social status will be lifted
up to tumbleweed.

I’m a cowgirl indeed,
The wild country as my steed.
Over grown roads are where I’m found,
the open valleys are my home.
I’m a cowgirl
the country as my steed.
All us cowgirl’s turn into tumbleweeds,
the country is our over grown home.

We cowgirls are nothing but overgrown
We have a need for adventure and moving with a lot of steam.
Chowchow! watch me pick up the speed.
Here I come rolling in like a tumbleweed.

© By Amanda D Shelton