I was in the arroyo gatherin' strays
Cowboys and cattle don't get holidays
I would have been finished except for one little guy
Who kept leading me farther away

Crossed over the mesa, through a ravine
Past the Indian ruins and the muddy red stream
Guess I was dreaming, I was bone tired
I guess that I started to dream

I saw three painted ponies, three dark skinned men
A mask made of clay and voices like wind

Singing we seek the soul, of all that is good
We come bearing corn, water and wood
Stop and behold, all that is good
Give thanks for the corn, water and wood

Now I'm an old trail hound and I've always believed
That your boots and your saddle are all that you need
No miracles happen, no angels appear
But there were three men were standing there

I shook myself over, must have been asleep
That's three Indian children, tending their sheep
They said Merry Christmas, Mr. Murphey, brought me my stray
And their voices rang through the mesquite

We seek the soul, of all that is good
We come bearing corn, water and wood
Stop and behold, all that is good
Give thanks for the corn, water and wood

We seek the soul, of all that is good
We come bearing corn, water and wood
Stop and behold, all that is good
Give thanks for the simple things
Give thanks for the corn, water and wood