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OLD TIME COWBOY
C OME all you melancholy folks wherever you maybe, I'll sing you about the cowboy whose life is light and
free. He roams about the prairie, and, at night when he
lies down, His heart is as gay as the flowers in May in his bed upon the ground.
They're a little bit rough, I must confess, the most
of them, at least; But if you do not hunt a quarrel you can live with
them in peace; For if you do, you're sure to rue the day you joined
their band. They will follow you up and shoot it out with you
just man to man.
Did you ever go to a cowboy whenever hungry and
dry, Asking for a dollar, and have him you deny? He'll just pull out his pocket book and hand you a
note,— They are the fellows to help you whenever you are