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WHAT'S BECOME OF THE PUNCHERS? 163 |
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Those that worked on the round-up, Those of the branding-pen, Those who went out on the long trail drive And never returned again.
We know of some who have prospered, We hear of some who are broke, My old pardner made millions in Tampa, While I 've got my saddle in soak!
Sleeping and working together, Eatin' old " Cussie's good chuck," Riding in all kinds of weather, Playing in all kinds of luck;
Bragging about our top-hosses, Each puncher ready to bet His horse could outrun the boss's, Or any old horse you could get I
Scott lies in Tularosa,
Elmer Price lies near Santa Fe,
While Randolph sits here by the fireside
With a " flat-face " on his knee.
'Gene Rhodes is among the high-brows, A-writinJ up the West, But I know a lot of doin's That he never has confessed 1
Heused to ride 'em keerless In the good old days When we both worked together In the San Andres 1 |
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