Could this be it?

COYOTES

Was a cowboy I knew in south Texas,
his face was burned deep by the sun,
Part history, part sage, part Mexican;
he was there when Pancho Villa was young

And he'd tell you a tale of the old days,
when the country was wild all around
Sit out under the stars of the Milky Way
and listen when the coyotes howl.

Now the longhorns are gone,
the drovers are gone, the Comanches are gone,
Geronimo's gone, the lion is gone
and the red wolf is gone.

Well, he cursed all the roads and the oil men
and he cursed the automobile,
Said this is no place for an hombre like I am
in this new world of asphalt and steel.

Then he'd look off some place in the distance,
at something only he could see
He'd say "All that's left of the old days
is the damned old coyote and me."

One morning they searched his adobe,
he disappeared without even a word.
But that night as the moon crossed the mountain,
one more coyote was heard.

Spaw