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The Crooked Trail to Holbrook
We made it to our horses; I tell you, we had no 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.
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 Mongollen Mountains where the tall
pines do grow, Grass grows in abundance, and rippling streams do
flow; Our packs were always turning, of course our gait
was slow, On that crooked trail to Holbrook, in Arizona oh.
At last we got to Holbrook, a little gale did blow; It blew up sand and pebble stones and it didn'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
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