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HE BRONC THAT WOULDN'T BUST
I
'VE busted bronchos off and on
Since first I struck their trail, And you bet I savvy bronchos From nostrils down to tail; But I struck one on Powder River, And say, hands, he was the first And only living broncho That your servant couldn't burst. He was a no-count buckskin,
Wasn't worth two-bits to keep,
Had a black stripe down his backbone,
And was woolly like a sheep.
That hoss wasn't built to tread the earth;
He took natural to the air;
And every time he went aloft
He tried to leave me there.
He went so high above the earth Lights from Jerusalem shone. Right thar we parted company And he came down alone. 1 hit terra firma, The buckskin's heels struck free, And brought a bunch of stars along To dance in front of me. |
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