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OUR LITTLE COWGIRL
T
HAR she goes a-lopin', stranger,
Khaki-gowned, with flyin' hair, Talk about your classy ridin\— Wal, you're gettin' it right thar. Jest a kid, but lemme tell you When she warms a saddle seat On that outlaw bronc a-straddle She is one that can't be beat! Every buckaroo that sees her
Tearin' cross the range astride Has some mighty jealous feelin's Wishin' he knowed how to ride. Why, she'll take a deep barranca Six-foot wide and never peep; That 'ere cayuse she's a-forkin' Sure 's somethin1 on the leap. Ride? Why, she can cut a critter From the herd as neat as pie, Read a brand out on the ranges Just as well as you or I. Ain't much yet with the riata, But you give her a few years And no puncher with the outfit Will beat her a-ropin' steers. 82 |
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