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She was painting a picture of slum lifeWhen the cowboy came limping byWearing tattered old boots with one sole goneAnd a far away look in his eyeWell he watched for a while as she paintedAnd then he said, "Mama, you surely paint well"Yes, you got all this on your canvasThe dirt the squalor and the hellWell she asked to paint him in the settingAh, but he shook his head slowly and lowHe said, "Naw, I won't fit your pictureUnless you can paint me back home"Can you paint me back home in WyomingRiding free 'neath the big sky aboveFree as the wind on the prairieOut in the hills that I loveI long to get back to WyomingAnd I've hoped all these years that I canPlease paint me back home on your canvasPaint me back in Wyoming againWell I never claimed this festered cityYou know I was raised on a ranch out in the westI spent my young years bustin' horsesAnd boy they said, I could ride with the bestSo I came here to Madison Square GardenTo ride in the big rodeoAh, but I got stepped on and all crippled upAnd chute bronc bustin' is all I knowAh, boy if I could just get back to WyomingI wouldn't feel so aloneAh, but the pain is too much for the roamin'So please can you paint me back homeCan you paint me back home in WyomingRiding free neath the big sky aboveFree as the wind on the prairieOut in the hills that I loveI long to get back to WyomingAnd I've hoped all these years that I canPlease paint me back home on your canvasPaint me back in Wyoming againPaint me back in Wyoming again