The Mudcat Café TM
Thread #35911   Message #38968
Posted By: Wolfgang Hell
22-Sep-98 - 11:46 AM
Thread Name: Strawberry Roan - ( & Sheepherder version?)
Subject: Lyr Add: THE STRAWBERRY ROAN^^^
I found this at
http://www.albany.net/~coollz/marty-strawberry.htm:

THE STRAWBERRY ROAN
Written by Nat Vincent, Curley Fletcher, and Fred Howard
(Adapted)

I was hangin' 'round town, just spendin' my time;
Out of a job, not earnin' a dime,
When a fella steps up and he says, I suppose
You're a bronc fighter, from the looks of your clothes.

He figgers me right, I'm a good one I claim;
Do you happen to have any bad ones to tame?
He says he's got one, a bad one to buck.
At throwin' good riders he's had lotsa luck.

I gets all het up, and I ask what he pays
To ride this old nag for a couple of days?
He offered me ten, and I said, I'm your man!
The bronc never lived that I couldn't fan!

He said get your saddle, I'll give you a chance;
In his buckboard we hops and he drives to the ranch.
I stayed 'til mornin' and right after chuck
I steps out to see if this outlaw can buck.

Down in the horse corral, standin' alone,
Is an old caballo, a strawberry roan;
His legs are all spavined, he's got pigeon toes,
Little pig eyes and a big roman nose,

Little pin ears that touch at the tip.
A big forty-four brand was on his left hip,
Ewe-necked and, oh, a long lower jaw...
I could see with one eye he's a regular outlaw!

I gets the blinds on him, and it sure is a fright;
Next comes my saddle, and I screws it down tight,
Then I steps on 'im and I raises the blinds,
Get out' the way, boys, he's gonna unwind!

He sure is a frog-walker, he heaves a big sigh--
He only lacks wings for to be on the fly,
He turns his ol' belly right up to the sun,
He sure is a sun-fishin' son-of-a-gun!

He's about the worst bucker I've seen on the range,
He'll turn on a nickle and give you some change;
He hits on all fours an' goes up on high,
Leaves me a-spinnin' up there in the sky

I turns over twice, an' I comes back to earth--
I lights there a-cussin' the day of his birth,

I know there are ponies that I cannot ride;
There's some of them left, they haven't all died;
I'll bet all my money the man ain't alive
That'll stay with ol' Strawberry, when he takes his high dive.

Wolfgang^^^