Lone Hand Western - Old West History


Cowboy Songs 2

Sometimes it's hard to remember the lyrics for all those traditional old cowboy and Western songs no matter how hard we try.  Here are the words for some of the classic songs as well as the words for the songs you may not hear anymore.  New songs will be added on a regular basis.  If you are looking for the words for a particular song let me know and I will try to post them.  Happy Singing!

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Cowboy Songs

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This bonney brute from the cattle chute
should be branded on the snoot

Press along to the big corral.
He long to the big corral.
Press along, cowboy, press along, press along
with a cowboy yell.YIP!

Press along with a noise, big noise,
press along to the big corral.

This ugly gink is a half-breed chink...
He makes his biscuits in the sink...

The chuck we get ain`t fit to eat...
There`s rocks in the beans and sand in the meat...

Early in the mornin`, `bout half past four...
You hear him open his face to roar...

My home it was in Texas 
My past you must not know 
I seek a refuge from the law 
Where the sage and pinon grow 
Blue Mountain, you're azure deep 
Blue Mountain with sides so steep 
Blue Mountain with horse head on your side
 You have won my heart to keep 
For the brand "LC" I ride 
And the sleeper calves on the side 
I'll own the "Hip-Side-and-Shoulder" when I grow older 
Zapitaro, don't tan my hide
 I chum with Latigo Gordon 
I drink at the Blue Goose Saloon 
I dance at night with the Mormon girls 
And ride home beneath the moon

I trade at Mons' store 
With bullet holes in the door 
His calico treasure my horse can measure 
When I'm drunk and feeling sore 

Yarn Gallus with shortened lope 
Doc Few-Clothes without any soap 
In the little green valley have made their sally 
And for Slicks there's still some hope 

In the summer time it's fine 
In the winter teh wind doth whine 
But say, dear brother, if you want a mother 
There's Ev on the old chuck line


Oh, Mister Boomer Johnson was agettin' old in spots
But you don't expect a bad man to go 'rasslin' pans and pots.
He'd done his share of killin', but his draw was gettin' slow
So he quits apunchin' cattle and he takes to punchin' dough.

Our foreman up an hires him thinkin' age had rode him tame
But a snake don't get no sweeter by the changin' of his name.
Boomer knew his business, he could cook to make you smile
But say, he wrangled fodder in a most peculiar style.

He didn't use no matches, left 'em layin' on the shelf
Just some kerosene and cussin', and the kindlin' lit itself
Pardner, I will tell you, it would give a man a jolt
Just to see him stir frijoles with the barrel of his Colt.

He built his doughnuts solid, and it sure would curl your hair
Just to see him plug the holes when he tossed them in the air,
He drilled the holes plumb center every time his pistol spoke,
'Til the can was full of doughnuts and the shack was full of smoke.

We was all a-gettin'jumpy but he couldn't understand
How his shootin'made us nervous when his shootin' was so grand.
He kept right on performin'and it weren't no surprise
When he took to markin' tombstones on the covers of his pies
They didn't look no better nor they didn't taste no worse
But settin' at the table was Iike ridin' in a hearse. 
We didn't do no talkin' and we took just what we got 
We et 'til we was foundered just to keep from gettin' shot. 

It was early one bright mornin', I was feelin' kinda low 
When Boomer passed the doughnuts, I answered, "Plenty, no 
Coffee's all this trip I'm takin','cause my stomach is a wreck." 
You could see the lust for killin' swell the wattles of his neck. 
Scorn his grub! He strung some doughnuts on the barrel of his gun 
He shoved it in my gizzard and he says, "You're takin' some." 
He was set to start a graveyard but for once he was mistook 
Me not wantin' any doughnuts, well I up and salts the cook.

Did they fire him? Listen, pardner, there was nothin' left to fire 
Just a row of smilin' faces and another cook to hire,
If he found another outfit and is cookin', what I mean, 
It's where they don't need matches and they don't use kerosene.

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Buffalo Gals, won't you come out tonight,
come out tonight, come out tonight?
Buffalo gals, won't you come out tonight,
And dance by the light of the moon?

I danced with a gal with a hole in her stockin',
And her heel kep' a-rockin' and her toe kep' a-knockin',
I danced with a gal with a hole in her stockin',
And we danced by the light of the moon.

O yes, pretty boys, we're comin' out tonight,
We're comin' out tonight, we're comin' out tonight,
O yes, pretty boys, we're comin' out tonight,
And dance by the light of the moon.

I asked her if she'd stop and talk
Stop and talk, stop and talk
Her feet covered up the whole sidewalk, 
she was fair to view

I asked her if she'd stop and dance, 
Have a dance, care to dance
I thought that I might get a chance 
to shake a foot with her

I asked her if she'd be my wife
be my wife, be my wife
Then I'd be happy all my life 
if she would marry me

I danced with the dolly with a hole in her stocking
And her feet kept a-rocking 
& her knees kept a-knocking
O I danced with the dolly with a hole in her stocking
And we danced by the light of the moon.



Come list to a ranger, you kind-hearted stranger 
This song, though a sad one, you'rer welcome to hear, 
Who fought the Comanches away from your ranches 
And followed 'em far o'er the Western frontier. 

Though weary of routin' an' travellin' an' shoutin' 
These bloodthirsty brutes over prairie an' woods, 
The 'lection is a-comin' an' they will be drummin' 
An' praisin' our value to purchase our food. 

These big alligators an' stately legislators, 
A-puffin' an' blowin' two-thirds of the time, 
No rest for the sinner, no breakfast, no dinner 
We sleep in the mud an' we aint got a dime.

No corn, no potatoes, no beets, no tomatoes
The jerked beef is dry as the sole of your shoe,
We fight in our blood an' we sleep in the mud,
An' what in the hell can a poor ranger do?

No glory, no payment, no victuals, no raiment,
No longer we'll fight on the Texas frontier;
So guard your own ranches, an' fight the Comanches
Yourself, or they'll scalp you in less than a year.
Cowboy poker game.

Oh, a man there lives on the Western plains, 
With a ton of fight and an ounce of brains, 
Who herds the cows as he robs the trains 
And goes by the name of cowboy. 
He laughs at death and scoffs at life; 
He feels unwell unless in some strife, 
He fights with a pistol, a rifle, or knife, 
This reckless, rollicking cowboy.
He sets up drinks when he hasn't a cent; 
He'll fight like hell with any young gent. 
When he makes love, he goes it hell-bent, 
Oh, he's some lover, this cowboy. 
He shoots out lights in a dancing hall; 
He gets shot up in a drunken brawl. 
Some coroner's jury then ends it all, 
And that's the last of the cowboy.


He was just a lonely cowboy
With a heart so brave and true
And he learned to love a maiden
With eyes of Heaven's own blue

They learned to love each other
As they named their wedding day
When a quarrel came between them
And Jack, he rode away

He joined a band of cowboys
And tried to forget her name
And out on the lonely prairie
She waits for him the same

One night when work was finished
Just at the close of day
Someone said sing a song Jack
T'will drive those cares away

When Jack began his singing
His mind, it wandered back
For he sang of a maiden
Who was waiting for her Jack

Jack left the camp next morning
Breathing his sweetheart's name
He said I'll ask forgiveness
For I know that I'm to blame

But when he reached the prairie
He found a new made mound
And his friends they sadly told him
That they laid his loved one down

They said as she was dying
She breathed her sweetheart's name
And asked them with her last breath
To tell Jack when he came

Your sweetheart waits for you, Jack
Your sweetheart waits for you
Out on the lonely prairie
Where the skys are always blue

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On the Chisolm Trail it was midnight 
Carmella was strong on his mind 
Because of the life he had chosen 
Carmella had left him be hind 
Too long he'd been El Bandido 
Carmella had left him a lone 
But today someone brought a message 
She's been seen in Old San Antone. 

Cross the Brazos in Waco 
Ride hard and I'll make it by dawn 
Cross the Brazos in Waco 
(1) (3) I'm safe when I reach San Antone. 
(2) I'll walk straight in Old San Antone.

He glanced back over his shoulder 
The posse was nowhere in sight 
He'd sent for Carmella to meet him
 On the banks of the Brazos tonight 
She was waiting and he kept a promise 
He'd made such a long time ago 
As he dropped the guns that she hated 
In the muddy Brazos below. 

Then the night came alive with gunfire 
He knew that at last he'd been found 
As the ranger's badge showed brightly 
El Bandido lay on the ground 
Carmella knew he was dying 
That all of her dreams were in vain 
As she kissed his lips for the last time 
She heard him whisper again.


Parson, I'm a maverick, just runnin' loose an' grazin'
Eatin' where's th' greenest grass an' drinkin' where I choose
Had to rustle in my youth an' never had no raisin'
Wasn't never halter-broke an' I ain't much to lose
Used to sleepin' in a bag an' livin' in a slicker
Church folks never branded me -- I don't know as they tried
Wish you'd say a prayer for me an' try to make a dicker
For the best they'll give me when I cross the Big Divide

Tell 'em I ain't corralled a night in more than twenty
Tell 'em I'm rawboned an' rough an' ain't much for looks
Tell 'em I don't need much grief because I've had plenty
I don't know how bad I am 'cause I ain't kept no books
Tell 'em I'm a maverick a-runnin' loose unbranded
Tell 'em I shoot straight an' quick an' ain't got much to hide
Have 'em come an' size me up as soon as I get landed
For the best they'll give me when I cross the Great Divide
Tell 'em I rode straight an' square an' never grabbed for leather
Never roped a crippled steer or rode a sore-backed horse
Tell 'em I've bucked wind an' rain an' every sort of weather
Had my tilts with A. K. Hall an' Captain R. E. Morse
Don't hide nothin' from 'em, whether it be sweet or bitter
Tell 'em I'll stay on th' range, but if I'm shut outside
I'll abide it like a man because I ain't no quitter
I ain't going to change just when I cross the Great Divide

Tell 'em, when th' Roundup comes for all us human critters
Just corral me with my kind an' run a brand on me
I don't want to be corralled with hypocrites an' quitters
Brand me just for what I am -- an' I'm just what you see
I don't want no steam-het stall or bran-mash for my ration
I just want to meet th' boss an' face him honest-eyed
Show him just what chips I got an' shove 'em in for cashin'
That's what you can tell 'em when I cross the Big Divide




We've reached the land of drought and heat,
Where nothing grows for man to eat
We do not live, we only stay
We are too poor to get away.

cho: Dakota land, sweet Dakota land
As on the highest butte I stand
And look away across the plains
And wonder why it never rains.
'Til Gideon blows his trumpet sound
And says the rain has gone around.

We have no grain, we have no oats
We have no corn to feed our shoats
The pigs go crying down the lane
They wonder why it never rains.

Our horse is of the bronco race
Starvation stares him in the face
God in His mercy give us grace
The people of Dakota land.

Our women are all of one kind
Our women are all of one mind
With balking hands and turned-up nose
They gather chips of buffaloes
And with a smile upon our lips,
We gather up the buffalo chips.


Old Diamond Joe was a rich old jay,
With lots of cowboys in his pay;
He rode the range with his cowboy band,
And many a mav'rick got his brand.

cho: Roll on, boys, roll, don't you roll so slow,
Roll on, boys, roll, don't you roll so slow,
Ki-o-ho-ho, ki-o-ho-ho,
You roll like cattle never rolled before

I am a pore cowboy, I've got no home,
I'm here today and tomorrow I'm gone;
I've got no folks, I'm forced to roam,
Where I hang my hat is home, sweet home.

If I was as rich as Diamond Joe,
I'd work today and I'd work no mo';
For they work me so hard and they pay so slow
I don't give a durn if I work or no.
I left my gal in a Texas shack,
And told her I was a-coming back;
But I lost at cards, then got in jail,
Then found myself on the Chisholm Trail.

I'll stay with the herd till they reach the end,
Then I'll draw my time and blow it in;
Just one more spree and one more jail,
Then I'll head right back on the lonesome trail.

I'll cross old Red at the Texas line,
And head straight back to that gal of mine;
I'll sit in the shade and sing my song,
And watch the herds as they move along.

When my summons come to leave this world,
I'll say good-by to my little girl;
I'll fold my hands when I have to go,
And say farewell to Diamond Joe.
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Kind friends, you must pity my horrible tale,
An object of pity, l'm looking quite stale,
I gave up my trade selling Wright's Patent Pills
To go hunting gold in the dreary Black Hills.

Don't go away, stay at home if you can,
Stay away from that city, they call it Cheyenne,
For big Wallipee or Comanche Bill
They will lift up your hair on the dreary Black Hills

The roundhouse at Cheyenne is filled every night
With loafers and bummers of most every plight;
On their backs is no clothes, in their pockets no bills,
Each day they keep starting for the dreary Black Hills.

I got to Cheyenne, no gold could I find,
I thought of the lunch route l'd left far behind;
Through rain, hail, and snow, froze plumb to the gills,
They call me the orphan of the dreary Black Hills.

Oh, I wish the man who started this sell
Was a captive, and Crazy Horse had him in hell.
There's no use in groaning or swearing like pitch,
But the man who would stay here is a son of a bitch.

Kind friend to conclude my advice I'll unfold
Don't go to the Black Hills a hunter for gold
Railroad speculators their pockets you'll fill
By taking a trip to the dreary Black Hills

Don't go away, stay at home if you can,
Stay away from that city, they call it Cheyenne,
For old Sitting Bull or Comanche Bill
They will take off your scalp on the dreary Black Hills.




The Gay Cabellero

Oh I am a gay caballero
Going to Rio Janiero
With nice oily hair,
And full of hot air,
I'm an expert at shooting the bull-eo

I'll find me a fair senorita
Not thin and yet not too much meat-a.
I'll woo her a while
In my Argentine style
And sweep her right off of her feet-a

I'll tell her I'm of the nobilio
And live in a great big castillio.
I must have a miss
Who will long for a kiss
And not say "Oh don't be so silly-io.

It was at a gay cabaretta
While wining and dining I met her.
We had one or two
As other folks do.
The night was wet but we got wetter.

She was a dancer and singer
At me she kept pointing her finger
And saying to me
"Si, Senor, Si Si"
But I couldn't see a durn thing-er

She told me her name was Estrella.
She said, "stick around me, young fella
For mosquitos they bite
And they're awful tonight
And you smell just like citronella."

She told me that she was so lonely
So I climbed upon her balcony.
While under her spell
I heard someone yell
"Get away from here you big baloney."

I swore I would win this senorita
I woo'ed her on the sofita
Then her husband walked in
What he did was a sin.
I can still hear the birds sing "Tweet tweet-a"

Oh I am a sad caballero
Returning from Rio Janierio
Minus my hair,
With a bruise here and there,
And her husband he bit off my ear-o.

Gay Cabellero

Bucking bronco and a cowboy.




Now, I've got no use for the women; 
A true one can seldom be found, 
They use a man for his money,
 When it's gone, they'll turn him down. 
They're all alike at the bottom, 
Selfish and grasping for all. 
They'll stay by a man when he's winning 
And laugh in his face at a fall. 

My pal was an honest young puncher; 
Honest and upright and true. 
But he turned to a hard-shooting gunman, 
On account of a girl named Lou. 
He fell in with evil companions, 
The kind that are better off dead; 
When a gambler insulted her picture, 
He filled him full of lead. 

All through the long night they trailed him, 
Through mesquite and thick chaparral. 
And I couldn't help think of that woman 
As I saw him pitch and fall; 
If she'd been the pal that she should have, 
He might have been raising a son, 
Instead of out there on the prairie, 
To die by the ranger's gun

Death's sharp sting did not trouble, 
His chances for life were too slim, 
But where they were putting the body 
Was all that worried him. 
He lifted his head on his elbow; 
The blood from his wounds flowed red. 
He gazed at his pals grouped around him, 
As he whispered to them and said: 

"Oh bury me out on the prairie, 
Where the coyotes may howl o'er my grave. 
Bury me out on the prairie, 
But from them my bones please save. 
Wrap me up in my blankets, 
And bury me deep in the ground. 
Cover me over with boulders 
Of granite gray and round." 

So we buried him out on the prairie, 
Where the coyotes can howl o'er his grave, 
And his soul is now a-resting, 
From the unkind cut she gave; 
And many another young puncher 
As he rides past that pile of stone, 
Recalls some similar woman 
And thinks of his moldering bones.

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I am looking rather seedy now while holding down my claim
And my victuals are not always served the best,
And the mice play shyly 'round me as I nestle down to rest
In my little old sod shanty in the West.
Yet I rather like the novelty of living in this way
Though my bill of fare is always rather tame,
But I'm happy as a clam on the land of Uncle Sam
In my little old sod shanty on my claim.

cho: The hinges are of leather and the windows have no glass
While the board roof lets the howling blizzard in;
And I hear the hungry ki-yote as he slinks up in the grass
'Round my little old sod shanty on my claim.

Oh when I left my eastern home, a bachelor so gay
To try and win my way to wealth and fame,
I little thought that I'd come down to burning twisted hay
In the little old sod shanty on my claim.
My clothes are plastered o'er with dough, I'm looking like a fright
And everything is scattered 'round the room,
But I wouldn't give the freedom that I have out in the West
For the table of the Eastern man's old home.


Still, I wish that some kind-hearted girl would pity on me take
And relieve me from the mess that I am in,
The angel, how I'd bless her, if this her home she'd make
In the little old sod shanty on my claim.
And we would make our fortunes on the prairies of the West;
Just as happy as two lovers we'd remain.
We'd forget the trials and troubles we endured at the first
In the little old sod shanty on my claim.


And if kindly fate should bless us with, now and then, an heir
To cheer our hearts with honest pride of fame,
O then we'd be contented for the toil that we had spent
In the little old sod shanty on our claim.
When time enough had lapsed, and all of those little brats
To noble man- and woman-hood had grown,
It wouldn't seem half so lonely as around us we should look
And see the little old shanty on our claim.



Me and My Burro

While comin' cross the desert, I met a miner grey,
A ridin' on a burro, we passed the time of day,
I asked him "where you headin"? He answered with a grin,
And pointin' up to Heaven, he said in a voice so thin.


Me and my burro, are on our last long ride,
We're headed for the promised land,
Up on the Jordans side,
Where everyone's and angel, and everything is free,
Where wind and storm can't hurt you when you enter Galilee.
Where lust of gold's forgotten, and sorrows never known,
Where the keep the Ten Commandments, And your soul is all your own,
Yes me and my burro are on our last long ride,
Were headin' for the promised land, up on the Jordan's side.

And then he turned his burro, And slowly turned away,
Across the drifting sand dunes, into the suns bright ray,
I guess he's with the angels, this old prospector grey,
But deep within my memory, I still can her him say.


Giddap old burro, the light of Heaven I see,
Giddap, giddap, old burro, For they are beckoning to me.
The pearly gates are open, I hear St. Peter call,
Giddap, giddap, old burro, just one last mile is all.
I hear the angels singing, I see the sheperd too, 
Tho' we ain't much to look at, we'll be welcome you and me,
So giddap old burro, we're on our last long ride,
We're headin' for the Promised Land, up on the Jordan's side.


(Harry Stephens)

Oh slow down, dogies, quit your roving 'round
You've wandered and trampled all over the ground.
Oh graze along, dogies, and feed kinda slow
And don't be forever on the go,
Move slow, dogies, move slow.

I have circle-herded, trail-herded, night-herded too
But to keep you together, that's what I can't do.
My horse is leg-weary and I'm awful tired
But if I let you get away I'm sure to get fired.
Bunch up, litle dogies, bunch up.

Oh say, little dogies, when you goin' to lay down?
And quit this forever siftin' around?
My limbs are weary, my seat is sore
Oh, lay down, dogies, like you've laid before,
Lay down, dogies, lay down.

Oh, lay still, dogies, since you have laid down
Stretch away on the big open ground.
Snore loud, little dogies, and drown the wild sound
That'll go away when the day rolls 'round,
Lay still, dogies, lay still




I ain't got no father
I ain't got no father,
I ain't got no father
To buy the clothes I wear.

cho: I'm a poor, lonesome cowboy,
I'm a poor lonesome cowboy,
I'm a poor lonesome cowboy,
And a long ways from home.

I ain't got no mother,
I ain't got no mother
I ain't got no mother
To mend the clothes I wear.

I ain't got no sister,
I ain't got no sister,
I ain't got no sister,
To go and play with me.

I ain't got no brother,
I ain't got no brother,
I ain't got no brother,
To drive the steers with me.

I ain't got no sweetheart,
I ain't got no sweetheart,
I ain't got no sweetheart,
To sit and talk with me.




(Grant Clarke, Lewis Muir and Maurice Abrahams)

Out in Arizona where the bad men are,
And the only friend to guide you is an Evening Star,
The roughest, toughest man by far
Is Ragtime Cowboy Joe.
Got his name from singing to the cows and sheep
Every night they say he sings the herd to sleep
In a basso rich and deep,
Crooning soft and low

cho: How he sings raggy music to his cattle
As he swings back and forward in his saddle
On his horse (a pretty good horse)
Who is syncopated gaited
And with such a funny meter
To the roar of his repeater

How they run when they hear the feller's gun
Because the western folks all know:
He's a hifalootin' scootin', shootin'
Son-of-a-gun from Arizona
Ragtime cowboy (talk about your cowboy)
Ragtime cowboy Joe.

Dressed up ev'ry Sunday in his Sunday clothes
He beats it for the village where he always goes,
And ev'ry girl in town is Joe's
'Cause he's a ragtime bear;
When he starts a-spieling on the dance hall floor,
No one but a lunatic would start a war
Wise men know his forty-four
Makes men dance for fair.

(Words Thurland Chattaway; music Kerry Mills)

There once was an Indian maid,
A shy little prairie maid,
Who sang a lay, a love song gay,
As on the plain she'd while away the day;

She loved a warrior bold,
This shy little maid of old,
But brave and gay, he rode one day
To battle far away.

Now, the moon shines tonight on pretty Red Wing
The breeze is sighing, the night bird's crying,
For afar 'neath his star her brave is sleeping,
While Red Wimg's weeping her heart away.

She watched for him day and night,
She kept all the campfires bright,
And under the sky, each night she would lie,
And dream about his coming by and by;

But when all the braves returned,
The heart of Red Wing yearned,
For far, far away, her warrior gay,
Fell bravely in the fray.


`Twas on the twenty-fourth of March we got under way,
Bound to the Western Bank on a bright and sunny day: 
The wind was off the land and clear was the sky;
That night we shot in Portland Dock - Root, hog, or die.

 "Now, boys, bring down your stores and fix them all complete;
Bring up your fishing lines and fix your fishing fleets."
The Captain came on board and "Ready!" was the cry:
"We'll move down Hog Island Roads - Root, hog, or die." 

"Now,boys, bring up your water-casks and carry them up on shore,
And fill them up with water till they will hold no more;
Then hoist up the boat, boys, we'll have another try
To get up on the Western Bank - Root, hog, or die."

 We hoisted up our sails and the wind began to blow.
We cleared up our decks and then went below,
We tumbled in our bunks but scarce shut an eye,
When `twas, "Turn out and reef, boys, - Root, hog, or die."

We tumbled from our bunks, regard to no brain,
One says unto the other, "I wonder if it rains,"
"It rains like the devil," the other quick replied,
"And we will have to oil up - Root, hog, or die." 

 Now we've got her close fore and aft, and we will go below,
The wind is to the eastward and like the devil it does blow,
We beat about and banged about and never saw the sky,
At last we shot in Port Latoun - Root, hog, or die.

 We bargained with old Carter for to get some wood;
He said he had a-plenty and that `twas very good;
He said he had a team he would send down bye and bye,
And help us get it to the boat - Root, hog, or die.

 Bye and bye the thing he called a team came rambling through the field,
`Twas nothing but a goose-pen tied on to a pair of wheels,
And as for the driver, I would rather be he than I,
"Whoa! gee! drive them straight!" - Root, hog, or die.

9And now I've sung you all about his farm and his stock,
I'll sing you about his girls, for he has quite a flock;
He's got one, she stands full eight feet high;
She doesn't favor wearing hoops - Root, hog, or die,

 Now I says unto the cook, "Make haste and bear a hand,
And we will take a walk on this Nova Scotia land."
As we were going up the road, two girls we did espy,
Sitting down upon a log - Root, hog, or die,

 Now I wish you'd seen the cook, I think likely 'twould ha' made you
For I thought he was as bashful as Timothy, I declare,
But if those rocks could speak as well as you and I,
Someone would be jealous at home - Root, hog, or die,

The World's Largest Music Gear Company


Cowboys, come and hear the story 
Of Roy Bean in all his glory,
"The law west of Pecos," read his sign.
We must let our ponies take us 
To a town on lower Pecos
Where the high bridge spans the eanyon thin and fine.

He was born one day in Toyah 
Where he learned to be a lawyer
A teacher and a barber and the mayor.
He was cook and old-shoe mender,
Sometimes preacher and bartender
And it cost two bits to have him cut your hair.

He was right smart of a hustler 
And considerable a rustler,
And at mixing up an eggnog he was grand;
He was clever, he was merry, 
He could drink a Tom and Jerry.
On occasion at a round-up took a hand.

Though the story isn't funny, 
There was once Roy had no money
Which for him was not so very strange or rare;
So he went to help Pop Wyndid, 
But he got so absent-minded
That he put his RB brand on old Pap's steer.

Old Pap got right smart angry, 
Roy Bean went down to Langtry
Where he opened up an office and a store.
Where he'd sell you drinks or buttons 
Or another rancher's muttons,
Though the latter made the other feller sore.

Once there came from Austin City 
A young dude reported witty
And out of Bean he sorta guessed he'd take a rise;
So he got unusual frisky 
As he up and called for whisky
Sayin', "Bean, now hurry up, gol durn your eyes."

Then down he threw ten dollars, 
Which the same Roy quickly collars
And the same Roy holds to nine and hands back one;
Then the dude he gave a holler, 
When he saw that single dollar
And right then began the merriment and fun.

The dude, he slammed the table 
Just as hard as he was able,
The price of whisky was too high, he swore.
Said Roy Bean, "For all your fussin' 
And your most outrageous cussin'
You are fined the other dollar by the law."

"On this place I own a lease.
 I'm the Justice of the Peace,
And the law west of the Pecos all is here,
And you've acted very badly.
" Then the dude he went off sadly
While down his lily cheek there rolled a tear.

One fine day they found a dead man 
Who in life had been a red man
Though it's doubtless he was nothing else than bad.
They called Bean to view the body. 
First he took a drink of toddy,
Then he listed all the things the dead man had.

For a red man he was tony, 
For he had a pretty pony
And a dandy bit and saddle and a rope;
He'd a very fine Navajo rug 
And a quart within his jug
And a pony that was dandy an the lope.

So the find it was quite rare-o, 
For he'd been a cocinero
And his pay day hadn't been so far away.
He'd a brand-new fine white Stetson 
And a silver Smith and Wesson
While a purse af forty dollars jingled gay.

Said Roy Bean, "You'll learn a lesson, 
For you have a Smith and Wesson
And to carry implements of war is wrong.
Forty dollars I will fine you, 
For we couldn't well confine you
As already you've been layin' around too long."

Now, you boys have heard the story 
Of Roy Bean in all his glory
He's the man who was the justice and the law,
He was handy with his hooks, 
And he was ornery in his looks,
And just now I ain't gonna tell you any more.

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I'll eat when I'm hungry,
I'll drink when l'm dry,
If the hard times don't kill me,
I'll lay down and die.

Rye whisky, rye whisky,
Rye whisky, l cry,
If you don't give me rye whisky,
I surely will die.

I'll tune up my fiddle,
And I 'll rosin my bow,
I'll make myself welcome,
Wherever I go.

Beefsteak when l'm hungry,
Red liquor when l'm dry,
Greenbacks when I'm hard up,
And religion when I die.

They say l drink whisky,
My money's my own;
All them that don't like me,
Can leave me alone.

Sometimes l drink whisky,
Sometimes l drink rum,
Sometimes l drink brandy,
At other times none.

But if I get boozy,
My whisky's my own,
And them that don't like me,
Can leave me alone.

Jack o' diamonds, jack o' diamonds,
I know you of old,
You've robbed my poor pockets
Of silver and gold.

Oh, whisky, you villain,
You've been my downfall,
You've kicked me, you've cuffed me,
But I love you for all.

If the ocean was whisky,
And I was a duck,
I'd dive to the bottom
To get one sweet suck.

But the ocean ain't whisky
And l ain't a duck,
So we'll round up the cattle
And then we'll get drunk.

My foot's in my stirrup,
My bridle's in my hand,
l'm leaving sweet Lillie,
The fairest in the land.

Her parents don't like me,
They say l'm too poor;
They say I'm unworthy
To enter her door.

Sweet milk when l'm hungry,
Rye whisky when l'm dry,
If a tree don't fall on me,
I'll live till I die.

I'll buy my own whisky,
I'll make my own stew,
If I get drunk, madam,
It's nothing to you.

I'll drink my own whisky,
I'll drink my own wine,
Some ten thousand bottles
I've killed in my time.

I've no wife to quarrel
No babies to bawl;
The best way of living
Is no wife at all.

Way up on Clinch Mountain
l wander alone,
l'm as drunk as the devil,
Oh, let me alone.

You may boast of your knowledge
An' brag of your sense,
'Twill all be forgotten
A hundred years hence.

Looking over the remuda.



Choose your partners, Skip to my Lou,
Choose your partners, Skip to my Lou,
Choose your partners, Skip to my Lou,
Skip to my Lou, my darlin'

Can't get a red bird, a blue bird will do ...
Can't get a red bird, a blue bird will do
Can't get a red bird. a blue bird will do
Skip to my Lou, my darlin'

I got a red bird, a pretty one too...
I got a red bird, a pretty one too
I got a red bird, a pretty one too
Skip to my Lou, my darlin'

Cat's in the cream jar, what'll I do?...
Cat's in the cream jar, what'll I do
Cat's in the cream jar, what'll I do
Skip to my Lou, My darlin'.

Fly's in the buttermilk, Shoo, shoo, shoo...
Fly's in the buttermilk, Shoo, shoo, shoo
Fly's in the buttermilk, Shoo, shoo, shoo
Skip to my Lou, My darlin'.

(Charles Badger Clark, Jr.)

Spanish is the loving tongue
Soft as music, light as spray;
'Twas a girl I learned it from
Living down Sonora way.
I don't look much like a lover,
Yet I say her love words over.
Often when I'm all alone
"Mi amor, mi corazon"

Nights when she knew where I'd ride
She would listen for my spurs,
Fling the big door open wide,
Raise them laughing eyes of hers.
And my heart would nigh stop beating
When I heard her tender greeting,
Whispered soft for me alone ---
"Mi amor, mi corazon"

Moonlight on the patio,
Old senora nodding near,
Me and Juana talking low
So the Madre couldn't hear.
How the hours would go a-flyin!
And too soon i'd hear her sighin'
In her little sorry tone ---
"Adios, mi corazon."

But one time I had to fly
For a foolish gamblin' fight,
And we said a swift goodbye
In that black unlucky night.
When I'd loosed her arms from clingin'
With her words the hoofs kept ringin',
As I galloped north alone ---
"Adios, mi corazon."

Never seen her since that night,
I can't cross the line, you know.
She was Mex and I was white;
Like as not it's better so.
Yet I've always sort of missed her
Since that last wild night I kissed her;
Left her heart and lost my own
"Adios, mi corazon."



Come, give me your attention, and see the right and wrong
It is a simple story and won't detain you long
I'II try to tell the reason why we are bound to roam
And why we are so friendless and never have a home.

My home is in the saddle, upon a pony's back;
I am a roving Cow-boy and find the hostile track
They say I am a sure shot, and danger I never knew,
But I have often heard the story that now I'll tell to you.

In eighteen hundred and sixty-three a little emigrant band
Was massacred by Indians, bound West by overland,
They scalped our noble soldiers, and the emigrants had to die

And the only living captives were two small girls and I.

I was rescued from the Indians by a brave and noble man
Who trailed the thieving Indians and fought them hand to hand
He was noted for his bravery while on an enemy's track
He has a noble history and his name is Texas Jack.

Old Jack could tell a story if he was only here.
Of the trouble and the hardships of the Western pioneer
He would tell you how the mothers and comrades lost their lives
And how the noble fathers were scalped before our eyes.

I was raised among the Cow-boys, my saddle is my home
And I'll always be a Cow-boy, no difference where I roam
And like our noble heroes, my help I volunteer
And try to be of service to the Western pioneer.

I am a roving Cow-boy, I've worked upon the trail
l've shot the shaggy buffalo and heard the coyote's wail
I have slept upon my saddle, and covered by the moon
I expect to keep it up, dear friends, until I meet my doom





I once had a gal and I loved her well,
I loved her better than tongue can tell;
I told her that my love was dear.
She told me that she did not care.

Her father gave me good advice
To stay at home and live a quiet life;
But for this word I did not care,
This good advice I did not hear.

I once had a home and I loved it well,
But in those mountains I longed to dwell,
Where the coyotes yell and the panthers squall,
And the bears they climb those mountains tall.

Our bed last night was snow and sleet,
And not a moment did we sleep,
Got up next morning, the clouds hung low,
And down that trail we was forced to go.

It was on the way we told our tale;
We met the Redskins on the trail.
To keep our course we shot them down,
About they fell to the frozen ground.

We traveled, traveled many long hours,
Until we reached those camps of ours;
We started singing, we'd gained our day,
We're the brave cowboys on the western trail



I was out walking an' a-ramblin' one day;
I spied a fair couple a-comin'my way;
One was a lady as fair as could be,
An' the other a cowboy, an' a brave one were he,
An' the other a cowboy, an' a brave one were he.

Says, "Where are you goin', my pretty fair maid?"
"Jest down by the river, jest down by the shade,
Jest down by the river, jest down by the spring,
See the wifd ripplin' water an' hear the nightingale sing,
See the wild ripplin' water an' hear the nightingale sing."

They hadn't been there but an hour or so
Till he drew from his satchel a fiddle and bow;
He tuned his fiddle all on the high string,
An' he played this tune over an' over again,
An' he played this tune over an' over again.
"Now," said the cowboy, "I should have been gone."
"No, no," said the pretty maid, "jest play one more song.
I'd rather hear the fiddle jest played on one string
As to see the water glide by an' hear the nightingale sing
As to see the water glide by an' hear the nightingale sing."
He tuned up hi@ fiddle and he rosined his bow;
He played her a lecture, he played it all o'er;
He played her a lecture that made the valley ring.
"Hark! Hark!" said the fair maid. "Hear the nightingale sing.
Hark! Hark! " said the fair maid. "Hear the nightingale sing."

She said, "Dear cowboy, will you marry me ? "
He said: "Dear lady, that could never be.
I have a wife in Arizona, an' a lady is she;
One wife on a cow-ranch is a plenty for me,
One wife on a cow-ranch is a plenty for me."

"I'll go to Mexico, I'll stay there one year;
I'll drink sweet wine an' I'll drink lotta beer.
If I ever return here, it will be in the spring,
To see the bright ripplin'water, hear the nightingale sing,
To see the bright ripplin'water, hear the nightingale sing."

Come all you young maidens, take warning from me;
Never place your affections in a cowboy too free;
He'll go away an' leave you like mine did me;
Leave you to rock cradles, sing "Bye-o-babee";
Leave you to rock cradles, sing "Bye-o-babee".

A little buckaroo.


Windy Bill was a Texas man
Well, he could rope, you bet.
He swore the steer he couldn't tie-
Well, he hadn't found him yet.
But the boys they knew of an old black steer,
A sort of an old outlaw
That ran down in the malpais
At the foot of a rocky draw.

This old black steer had stood his ground
With punchers from everywhere ;
So they bet old Bill at two to one
That he couldn't quite get there.
Then Bill brought out his old gray hoss,
His withers and back were raw,
And prepared to tackle the big black brute
That ran down in the draw.

With his Brazos bit and his Sam Stack tree*,
His chaps and taps to boot,
And his old maguey** tied hard and fast,
Bill swore he'd get the brute.
Now, first Bill sort of sauntered round.
Old Blackie began to paw
Then threw his tail straight in the air
And went driftin' down the draw.

The old gray plug flew after him,
For he'd been eatin' corn;
And Bill, he piled his old maguey
Right round old Blackie's horns.
The old gray hoss he stopped right still;
The cinches broke like straw,
And the old maguey and the Sam Stack tree
Went driftin' down the draw.

Bill, he lit in a flint rock pile,
His face and hands was scratched.
He said he thought he could rope a snake***,
But he guessed he'd met his match;
He paid his bets like a little man
Without a bit of jaw
And 'lowed old Blackie was the boss
Of anything in the draw.

There's a moral to my' story, boys,
And that you all must see.
Whenever you go to tie a snake
Don't tie it to your tree;
But take your dolly welters****
'Cordin' to California law,
And you'll never see your old rim-fire*****
Go drifting down the draw.



You Are My Sunshine

The other night dear, as I lay sleeping,
I dreamt I held you in my arms,
When I awoke dear, I was mistaken,
And I hung my head and I cried,


You are my sunshine, my only sunshine,
You make me happy when skies are gray.
You'll never know dear, how much I love you.
Please don't take my sunshine away.

I told you once dear, I'd always love you,
If you would only stay the same,
And if you leave me to love another,
You'll regret it all some day.


You told me once dear, you'd always love me,
And no one else would come between,
But now you left me to love another,
You have shattered all my dreams.



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