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Cowboy Lyrics |
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THE BRONCO BUSTER
You rough-necks think it plenty fun To set up there an' josh an' run Your talk-machines an' watch me take This here old coffin-head to break.
"Stay with him, fan him!" What you say? "Pull leather?" Nix; I'm here to stay; No bronk that ever lived or growed, This prairie chicken ever throwed.
(It hain't because I hate this hoss, It's jes' because I will be boss; I'll make him know an' not ferget, That I am allers boss, you bet!)
See that! he's gentlin' down an' he Tomorrow will jes' foller me An' let me scratch his head an' cheek, A lamb he'll beat fer bein' meek.
Oh, laff, you gobblers, have your fun, But when with this here job I'm done, I'll show you would-be's this bronk change, An' lead the best hoss on the range. |
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