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THE CROOKED TRAIL TO HOLBROOK 53 |
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THE CROOKED TRAIL TO HOLBROOK
Mailed me from Douglas, Arizona, by an old friend named Cotton.
Come, all you jolly cowboys that follow the bronco
steer, I'll sing to you a verse or two your spirits for to
cheer; It's all about a trip that I did undergo On that crooked trail to Holbrook, in Arizona, oh.
It was on the seventeenth of February our herd
it started out, It would have made your hearts jump to hear them
bawl and shout, As wild as any buffalo that ever swam the Platte, Those cattle we were driving and every one was
fat.
We crossed the Mescal Mountains on the way to
Hidalgo, And when we got to Gilson Flats, Lord, how the
wind did blow 1 ' But our spirits never failed us as onward we did go, — On that crooked trail to Holbrook, in Arizona, oh.
That night we had a stampede; Lord, how the cattle
run! V/e made it to our horses; I tell you, we had fun; Over the prickly pear and catclaw brush we quickly
made our way; We thought of our long journey and the girls we 'd
left one day. |
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