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