An old cowpoke went riding out one dark and windy day.
Upon a ridge he rested as he went along his way.
When all at once a mighty herd of red-eyed cows he saw,
A’plowin’ through the ragged skies and up a cloudy draw.

Yi-pi-yi-ay, Yi-pi-yi-o! Ghost riders in the sky.

Their brands were still on fire
And their hooves were made of steel.
Their horns wuz black and shiny
And their hot breaths he could feel.
A bolt of fear went through him
As they thundered through the sky;
He saw the riders comin’ hard and he heard their mournful cry:

Yi-pi-yi-ay, Yi-pi-yi-o! Ghost riders in the sky.

Their faces gaunt, their eyes were blurred
And shirts all soaked with sweat.
They’re ridin’ hard to catch that herd
But they ain’t caught them yet
They’ve got to ride forever in that range up in the sky
On horses snortin’ fire, as they ride on, hear their cry:

Yi-pi-yi-ay, Yi-pi-yi-o! Ghost riders in the sky.

As the riders loped on by him, he heard one call his name:
“If you want to save your soul from hell
A’ ridin’ on our range, then, cowboy, change your ways today
O with us you will ride a-tryin’ to catch the Devil’s herd
Across these endless skies.”

Yi-pi-yi-ay, Yi-pi-yi-o! Ghost riders in the sky.
(Ghost riders in the sky.)