| Ebm | F# | | An | old cowboy went ridig out one | dark and windy day, |
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| Ebm | | Up | on a ridge he rested as he went along his way, |
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| B/Eb | Ab/Eb | B/Eb | | When all at once a | mighty herd of | red-eyed cows he | saw, |
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| B | Abm | Ebm | | Ploughin' through the ragged skies | and | up the cloudy draw. |
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| Ebm | F# | | Their | brands were still on fire and their | hooves were made of steel, |
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| Ebm | | Their | horns were black and shiny and their hot breath he could feel, |
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| B/Eb | Ab/Eb | B/Eb | | A bolt of fear went | through him as they | thundered through the | sky, |
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| B | Abm | Ebm | | For he | saw the riders coming hard | , and he | heard their mournful cry. |
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| | | F# | Ebm | C# | | | Yippee-i- | ow, yippee-i- | ay, | |
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| | | B | Abm | Ebm | | | | Ghost riders | in the | sky. |
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| Ebm | F# | | Their | faces gone, their eyes were blurred, their | shirts were soaked with sweat, |
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| Ebm | | He's | riding hard to catch that herd but he ain't caught 'em yet, |
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| B/Eb | Ab/Eb | B/Eb | | 'Cause they've got to ride for | ever on that | range up in the | sky, |
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| B | Abm | Ebm | | All | horses snortin' fire | , as they | ride on hear their cry. |
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| Ebm | F# | | As the | riders loped on by him, he | heard one call his name, |
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| Ebm | | If you | wanna save your soul from hell a-ridin' on our range, |
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| B/Eb | Ab/Eb | B/Eb | | Then, cowboy, change your | ways today or | with us you will | ride, |
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| B | Ebm | Ebm | | Tryin' to catch the devil's herd | a | cross those endless skies. |
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| | | F# | Ebm | C# | | | Yippee-i- | ow, yippee-i- | ay, | |
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| | | B | Abm | Ebm | | | | Ghost riders | in the | sky. |
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| | | B | Abm | Ebm | | | | Ghost riders | in the | sky. |
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| | | B | Abm | Ebm | | | | Ghost riders | in the | sky. |
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