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PINTO' |
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I
AM a vaquero by trade; To handle my rope I'm not afraid. I lass' an otero by the two horns Throw down the biggest that ever was born. Whoa! Whoa! Whoa! Pinto, whoa!
My name to you I will not tell;
For what's the use, you know me so well.
The girls all love me, and cry
When I leave them to join the rodero.
Whoa! Whoa! Whoa! Pinto, whoa!
I am a vaquero, and here I reside;
Show me the broncho I cannot ride.
They say old Pinto with one split ear
Is the hardest jumping broncho on the rodero.
Whoa ! Whoa! Whoa! Pinto, whoa!
There strayed to our camp an iron gray colt; The boys were all fraid him so on him I bolt. You bet I stayed with him till cheer after cheer,— * He's the broncho twister that's on the rodero." Whoa! Whoa! Whoa! Pinto, whoa! |
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