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THE SKEW-BALL BLACK |
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T was down to Red River I came, Prepared to play a damned tough game,— Whoa 1 skew, till I saddle you, whoa!
I crossed the river to the ranch where I intended to
work, With a big six-shooter and a derned good dirk,— Whoa! skew, till I saddle you, whoa I
They roped me out a skew-ball black With a double set-fast on his back,— Whoa 1 skew, till I saddle you, whoa!
And when I was mounted on his back,
The boys all yelled, " Just give him slack,"—
Whoa 1 skew, till I saddle you, whoa I
They rolled and tumbled and yelled, by God, For he threw me a-whirling all over the sod,— Whoa! skew, till I saddle you, whoa 1
I went to the boss and I told him I'd resign,
The fool tumbled over, and I thought he was dyin',—
Whoa! skew, till I saddle you, whoa!
And it's to Arkansaw I'll go back, To hell with Texas and the skew-ball black,— Whoa! skew, till I saddle you, whoa I
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