| Every day a lullabout evening | |
| When the sunlights beginning to fail | |
| I ride through the slumbering shadows | |
| Along the Navajo Trail | |
| When it's nigth and crickets are calling | |
| And coyotes are making a wail | |
| I dream by a smouldering fire | |
| Along the Navajo Trail | |
| When the wind is strumming a sage-brushed guitar | |
| And over yonder hill the moon is climbing | |
| It always finds me whistling on a star | |
| What do you know it's morning already | |
| There's the dawning, so silver and pale | |
| It's time to climb in my saddle | |
| I want to ride the Navajo Trail | |
| I love the lie and listen to all the music | |
| I want to ride the Navajo Trail | |
| with fellows like Maverick and Cheyenne, | |
| the indians and their bow and arrows | |
| the boys and guns and love to travel | |
| along the Navajo Trail |
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