Traditional & Folk Songs with lyrics, midis & Mp3
Bad Brahma Bull
Bad Brahma Bull
Bad Brahma Bull
I was snappin' out broncs for the old Flying U,
At forty a month, I'm a real buckaroo.
When the boss comes around and he says, "Say, my lad,
You look pretty good ridin'horses that's bad.
At straddlin'thr rouyh ones, why you ain't so slow,
And you might do some good at the big rodeo.
You see I ain't got no more horses to break,
But I'll buy you a ticket and give you a stake."
"So pack up your saddle and be on your way,
It looks like you might be a champion some day.
Step right down and choose them, and when you get through,
Just tell them you learned on the old Flying U.
Lay off of hard liquor and don't you get full,
And I think you can ride that old bad brahma bull.
He's mean as they make 'em, and don't you forget
He's hurt lots of twisters and never been set."
So I wrap up my riggin' and start raisin'dust,
A-huntin' th@' show with that big bull to bust.
I enter the contest and I pay entry fee,
And I tell 'em to look at the champion--that's me.
"So bring on your bad ones, you never had none
That could set me to guessin' or bother me none.
I'll bet you this bankroll and outfit beside
That you ain't got nothin' I can't scratch and ride."
They look me all over, and say, "Guess he's full,
Let's give him a seat on the bad brahma bull."
Says I, "Good enough, I'm not here to brag,
But I've come a long way just to gentle that stag.
You claim he's a bad one and I guess he may be,
But he looks like a sucklin' or weaner to me."
When he's saddled, I say, "I am ready right now,
If you want this thing rode, I will show you all how."
So while they're a-puttin' the bull in the chutes,
I'm strappin my spurs to the heels of my boots.
Then I look the bull over, and to my surprise,
He's a foot and a half in between his two eyes.
On top of his shoulders he's got a big hump,
So I take a deep seat just in back of that lump,
When I light on the brahma, I let out a scream,
He's out with a beller, and the rest is a dream.
He jumps to the left and he lands to the right
But I ain't no greenhorn, and I'm settin' real tight.
The dust starts to foggin' right out of his skin
And he's wavin' his horns right in under my chin;
At sunnin' his belly, he just can't be beat,
He's showin' the grandstand the soles of his feet.
He's dippin' so low that my boots fill with dirt,
And he's makin' a whip with the tail of my shirt.
He starts to fence-rovin' and weavin' behind,
My heart starts to snappin' an' I go sorta blind.
Next thing he's high-diving and turning handsprings,
And I take to the air just as though I had wings.
Up high I turn over, and below I can see
He's pawin' the dirt and a-waitin' for me
I picture a grve and a big slab of wood
Readin', "Here lies a twister who thought he was good."
I hit on the ground and I let out a yelp
I'm plumb terror-stricken and howling for help.
I jump to my feet, and I've got enough sense
To outrun the bull to a hole in the fence.
I dive through the hole, and I want you yo know
I ain't goin' back to that old Wild West show.
At straddlin' bad brahmas you bet I'm all through
I'm sore-footin' back to the old Flying U.
Copyright 1942 (renewed) Duchess Music Corp.
Note: This is Curley Fletcher (Strawberry Roan) ripping himself
off. Brahma Bulls--the hump-backed, mean ones, were
introduced to the US in 1849 as a disease and insect-
resistant strain. Brahma bulls were introduced to the rodeo
scene in 1920. RG
From He Was Singing this Song, Tinsley