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THE END OF THE TRAIL
S
OH, Bossie, soh!
The water's handy heah, The grass is plenty neah, An' all the stars a-sparkle Bekaze we drive no mo1— We drive no rno\ The long trail ends today,—
The long trail ends today, The punchers go to play And all you weary cattle May sleep in peace for sure,— May sleep in peace for sure,— Sleep, sleep for sure. The moon can't bite you heah,
Nor punchers fright you heah. An' you-all will be beef befo* We need you any mo',— We need you any mo'! From Pocock's "Curley"
THE END
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