Little Songs

Go ahead, Russel

There's an old man in the foothills

And if he ain't dead, he's living there still

Loved them little cuttin' horses

All his life

That's a high-dollar habit

He don't mind, he's financed it

Building songs

And losing wives

You wont get much on mountain time

Except older and a thicker hide

You got to fill the big empty

With little songs

There's a lady on the highline

She's fighting drought and her own mind

Day by day, she's been losing

To the wind

'Cause between the price of feed

And the moisture she don't see

A gal considers selling out

Or pitting in

You might not see a soul for days

On them high and lonesome plains

You got to fill the big empty

With little songs

You got to fill the big empty

With little songs

You got to fill the big empty

With little songs