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SONGS OF THE COWBOYS |
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It's long by Sombserva we slowly punched along, While each and every puncher would sing'a hearty
song To cheer up his comrade as onward we did go, — On that crooked trail to Holbrook, in Arizona, oh.
We crossed the Mogollon Mountains where the tall
pines grow, Grass in abundance and rippling streams do flow; Our packs were always turning, of course our gait
was slow, — On that crooked trail of Holbrook, in Arizona, oh.
At last we got to Holbrook — a little gale did blow; It blew up sand and pebble stones, and it did n't
blow them slow. We had to drink the water from that muddy little
stream, And swallowed a peck of dirt when we tried to eat
a bean.
But the cattle now are shipped and homeward we
are bound With a lot of as tired horses as ever could be
found, Across the reservation no danger did we fear, But thought of wives and sweethearts and the ones
we love so dear. |
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