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HELL IN TEXAS |
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But along with the tailings and sleepers The strays must turn from the gate; No road brand to gain them admission, But the awful sad cry of " too late."
Yet I trust, in the last great round-up, When the rider shall cut the big herd, That the cowboys shall be represented In the earmark and brand of the Lord; To be shipped to the bright mystic regions Over there in green pastures to lie, And led by the crystal still waters, In that home of the sweet by and by.
HELL IN TEXAS
This song was originally entitled " The Birth of New Mexico" 2 have five different versions of it. As each version is supposed to be by a different author, and I can only procure the names of three of them, I shall brand it as a "maverick" and let it go at that.
The Devil we're told in hell was chained, And a thousand years he there remained; He never complained nor did he groan, But determined to start a hell of his own, Where he could torment the souls of men Without being chained in a prison pen. So he asked the Lord if he had on hand. Anything left when he made the land.
The Lord said, "Yes, I had plenty on hand
But I left it down on the Rio Grande;
The fact is, old boy, the stuff is so poor
I don't think you could use it in hell any more." |
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