James McMurtry, "No More Buffalo"

Don't chase that carrot
'Til it makes you sick
What do you think you're gonna prove?
Just let it dangle 
'Til it falls off that stick
That's when you make your move

Don't go chasing after shooting stars
Trying to make yourself a name
You could joust at the windmills
With that old Fender guitar
You'd probably do about the same ...

I never thought they'd ever doubt my words
I guess they were just too tired to care
I'd point to the horizon
To the dust of the herds, still hovering in the air
Somebody said it ain't any such
Man, you wish so hard you're scaring me
Those are combines kicking up that dust
But I guess you can see what you want to see
You can keep on chasing what used to be there
Top that rise and face the pain
But man they were here, they were here I swear
Not just these bleaching bones, stretching across the plain