The Mudcat Café TM
Thread #51310   Message #4115261
Posted By: pattyClink
03-Aug-21 - 11:12 AM
Thread Name: Origins: Town of Old Dolores(James Grafton Rogers)
Subject: RE: Lyr Req: Town of Old Delores (James Grafton Rogers
There is a version of this that Katie Lee sang later in her life, and it seems a little more coherent than some of the others. "guests" post above seems to have some cut-paste repeats in it. And the one in the Digital Tradition seems to be missing verse 3.

So here's her version as I hear it off the Youtube recording. You could make an argument that some verses might be better switched, but I like it. And if someone out there has a printed source, let's have it!

Old Dolores

In the country down below where the little pinons grow,
It's nearly always half a day to water.
There stood a little town where the creek come tumbling down
From the mesa where she surely hadn't oughter.
The streets were bright with candlelight;
The whole town joined the chorus;
And every man in sight let his cattle drift at night,
Just to mosey to the town of old Dolores.

Well things'd kind of spin 'til the sun come up again,
Like the back of some old yellow prairie wagon,
And show you dim and red maybe half a hundred head
Of our saddle ponies standing reins a-draggin'.
The red mud walls, the waterfalls,
The whole wide world before us;
Now the 'dobe walls are gone, the goats' bell in the dawn
Ain't a-jingling in the streets of old Dolores.

All the strings of peppers hung on the vigas in the sun,
Blazin' red as some young puncher's new bandanna;
And the scented smoke that came from the pinon wood aflame
Smelt like incense to Our Lady of Manana.
The clinkin' chips, and the scarlet lips,
and the drinks Ramon poured for us,
But the friendly lights are dark, and the coyot's lonesome bark,
Is the only music now in old Dolores.

The dance hall girls would fool in the plaza in the cool,
It's there he used to meet her by a willow;
But I guess that any girl gives a feller's heart a whirl
When the same's been using saddles fer a piller.
The wide-eyed stars, the long cigars,
The drinks at Joe Portfora's.
If there's any little well down within the gates of hell,
I know the boys have called it old Dolores.