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NEW NATIONAL ANTHEM 103 |
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He's a great old camp-robber when the boys are in
bed — Roots among the bake ovens for bacon and bread.
He's a great one to wrangle on, he knows every
horse, And if one of 'em's missing he's as mad as the
boss; His sense just come natural, he was never in
school, He's as wise as a parson, my little brown mule.
Did you ask if I'd sell him—well, not on your
life; The day we were married I gave him to the wife; And now two of my kids daily ride him to school; Oh, no, money can't buy him, my little brown
mule.
NEW NATIONAL ANTHEM
Accredited to Burr Sims. Heard it sung at a matador camp in the Panhandle of Texas.
My country, 't is of thee, Land where things used to be So cheap we croak. Land of the mavericks, Land of the puncher's tricks, Thy culture-inroad picks The hide of this peeler-bloke. |
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Some of the punchers swear That what they eat and wear |
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