The Mudcat Café TM
Thread #27892   Message #343733
Posted By: Amos
19-Nov-00 - 09:34 PM
Thread Name: The Castration of the Strawberry Roan
Subject: The Castration of the Strawberry Roan^^^
I was hunting up a definitive set of words to the American favorite, The Strawberry Roan, and I encountered these on an obscure AOL page dedicated to smutty songs and backroom ballads, which you can find here if you wish.  This particular set is worthy of posterity, considering its renowned antecedent, one of the best loved hoss-songs ever sung.  Enjoy.




I'd walked into town, heart down and foot sore,
Had to carry my saddle, my hoss was no more,
He'd bitten the dust two-three mile outta town,
All for tryin' to rope that damn strawberry roan.

Well he'd led me a chase, raced sure-foot and quick,
Had his tail in the air and was waving his prick,
A mean glint in his eye, he was canny and cunnin',
And left me on foot, my horse dead from the runnin'.

cho: Oh! the Strawberry Roan, how many colts has he thrown?
     He's got gonorrhea, the cankers, and syph,
     He's strictured with clap but his cock is still stiff
     Oh! that renegade Strawberry Roan.

Behind velvet curtains the down-at-heel whores,
Were fixin' their faces and droppin' their drawers,
I picked out a nice one, an Irish red-head,
Even took off my boots 'fore I got on the bed.

She slipped off her dress and I saw at a glance,
That the red-headed whorelet di'n't wear any pants.
So I gave her full bore and the whore gave a groan,
And the hair round her hole, it was strawberry roan.

So I stayed around town in that house of ill fame,
Laid up with that rough, tough red-headed dame,
When a hop-headed pimp with his nose full of coke
Beat me outta that woman and left me stone broke.

I was down on the floor and was down on my luck,
I was flat broke and tired and sore for a fuck,
So I picks myself up and I brush myself down,
And I turn right around, being 'bout to leave town.

When up steps a feller and he says, "Say, my lad,
You any damn good ridin' horses that's bad?"
I says, "You damn right! That's one thing I can do.
I'm a second-rate pimp, but a good buckaroo.

"Bring on your bad horses' cause I never saw one
That had me a guessin' or bothered me none."
He said. "Guess again, there's one horse that I own,
You might have heard of him, the Strawberry Roan."

I says, "I guess we've all heard of that ball bearin' stud,
He's got equine distemper, the glanders, and crud,
He's the worst fuckin' outlaw that ever been foaled,
He hasn't been rode and he's twenty years old."

cho: Oh! the Strawberry Roan, how many colts has he thrown?
     He's got gonorrhea, the cankers, and syph,
     He's strictured with clap but his cock is still stiff
     Oh! that renegade Strawberry Roan.

The upshot of it was that I found myself hired
To snap out some colts that that breed stud had sired;
They was knot-headed cayuses just like their dad
Most of 'em roan, and all of 'em bad.

From mornin' till night how those bastards did fight,
Till my ass drug my tracks out way before night,
With my balls in my boots and my mouth full of shit,
I's plum tuckered out and all ready to quit.

When up steps the boss and he says, "That's enough,
Them strawberry roan colts is just too damn tough;
I'm plum sick and tired seein' you take them falls,
Rope that man-killin' stud and we'll carve out his balls."

cho: Oh! the Strawberry Roan, we went out to unbend his bone
     I built a big loop and went in the corral,
     Roped his front feet, and he farted and fell,
     And we flattened ol' Strawberry Roan.

The boss held his head, and I hog tied his legs,
Got out my jackknife and went for his eggs:
When I carved on his bag, he let out a squall,
And squealed like a pig when I whittled one ball.

But all I could locate was one of his nuts,
The other was hidden somewhere in his guts,
So I rolled up my sleeves and all over blood
I fished for the seed in the guts of that stud.

I thought I had found it, I felt something pass,
But it was only a turd on the way to his ass;
Just then I heard one of them blood-curdlin' squalls,
And I looked and the roan had the boss by the balls.

I tromped on his head, but it wasn't no use,
He was just like a bulldog, he wouldn't turn loose;
So I untied his legs, and he got to his feet,
But the boss's voice changed, and I knew we was beat.

cho: Oh! the Strawberry Roan, I advise you to leave him alone
     He's a knot-headed cayuse with only one ball,
     And the boss he's a eunuch with no balls at all,
     Lay off of the Strawberry Roan.

He's still out on the range is that stud with one ball,
And he's got one nut left to put lead in his tool,
Siring knot-headed cayuses, mean as their dad,
Most of 'em roan and every one bad.

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