“Guess who just drove by? Yep — George Strait. And he’s still just as cool as ever!” George Strait doesn’t need stage lights or a roaring crowd to shine. All it takes is him stepping out of a pickup, flashing that smile, lifting a hand to wave — and suddenly, hearts skip a beat. In this photo, he’s not performing. He’s not filming a show. He’s just being himself. And that’s exactly why millions have loved him for over 40 years. That white cowboy hat? Iconic. That sincere gaze? Unmistakable. That smile? A gateway to memories wrapped in songs like “Amarillo By Morning,” “Carrying Your Love With Me,” and “The Chair.”

Introduction

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“George Strait – Amarillo by Morning (Live from the Astrodome)” is a landmark performance emblematic of both Strait’s storied career and the cultural gravitas of its setting. This version appears on For the Last Time: Live from the Astrodome, recorded March 3, 2002, during the final Houston Livestock Show and Rodeo held inside the iconic Astrodome—ushering in the end of a 37‑year era and marking Strait’s first full live album release.

Originally written by Terry Stafford and Paul Fraser, “Amarillo by Morning” first emerged in 1973 as a modest country‑pop single. Stafford, inspired by a TV commercial and his road trip from San Antonio to Amarillo after a rodeo show, captured the essence of a drifting rodeo cowboy taking pride in his freedom despite hardship . When George Strait recorded it in 1982 for his album Strait from the Heart, he transformed it into a neotraditional Western anthem. Released as a single in February 1983, Strait’s rendition soared to No. 4 on Billboard’s Hot Country Songs chart, cementing its status as one of his signature tunes . Decades later it remains one of the most beloved country songs, acclaimed by CMT, American Songwriter, and Rolling Stone .

The Astrodome performance brings added layers of symbolism. Over 68 000 fans gathered to witness both a historic venue’s swan song and Strait’s masterful delivery . Joined by his Ace in the Hole Band and backed by fiddle and steel guitar, Strait delivers the heartfelt ballad with stoic restraint—a hallmark of his live style . Reddit users and country‑music fans frequently cite this live take as a personal favorite from the album .

This rendition captures more than a song—it captures a moment: a Texan legend bidding farewell to a Texan icon. Over the span of a little more than three minutes, George Strait turns a tale of rodeo grit and solitude into a communal celebration of perseverance—and freedom.

Video

Lyrics

Amarillo by mornin’
Up from San Antone
Everything that I got
Is just what I’ve got on
When that Sun is high
In that Texas sky
I’ll be buckin’ at the county fair
Amarillo by mornin’
Amarillo I’ll be there
They took my saddle in Houston
Broke my leg in Santa Fe
Lost my wife and a girlfriend
Somewhere along the way
But I’ll be lookin’ for eight
When they pull that gate
And I hope that
Judge ain’t blind
Amarillo by mornin’
Amarillo’s on my mind
Amarillo by mornin’
Up from San Antone
Everything that I got
Is just what I’ve got on
I ain’t got a dime
But what I’ve got is mine
I ain’t rich
But Lord, I’m free
Amarillo by mornin’
Amarillo’s where I’ll be
Amarillo by mornin’
Amarillo’s where I’ll be

You Missed

THE NIGHT COUNTRY MUSIC HELD ITS BREATH: Alan Jackson Walked Onstage… and Time Seemed to Stop. There were no blazing pyrotechnics, no theatrical farewell designed to soften the truth everyone in the room could feel. When Alan Jackson stepped into the light, it wasn’t the entrance of a star ending a tour—it felt like a man carrying decades of stories onto one last stretch of stage. The crowd roared, but beneath the cheers there was a fragile silence, the kind that comes when people realize a moment will never come again. Each song landed heavier than the last. The melodies were the same ones fans had carried through weddings, funerals, long drives, and quiet nights—but now every note felt like it was slipping through their fingers. You could see it in the faces in the audience: some smiling, some wiping tears, many simply standing still, as if afraid to blink and miss something sacred. What made the night unforgettable wasn’t the setlist or the performance—it was the unspoken understanding. This wasn’t a farewell tour in the usual sense. It felt more like standing at the edge of a long, winding road, watching the sun set behind it, knowing the journey mattered more than the ending. And when the lights dimmed, there was no grand goodbye. Just the echo of a voice that had carried generations, fading gently into the dark—leaving behind the haunting realization that some endings don’t announce themselves… they simply arrive, and leave your heart quieter than before.