American Ballads and Songs

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The wind commenced to blow, and the rain began to
fall, Hit looked, by grab, like we was goin' to lose 'em all.
I jumped in the saddle and grabbed holt the horn, Best blamed cow-puncher ever was born.
I popped my foot in the stirrup and gave a Uttle yell, The tail cattle broke and the leaders went to hell.
I don't give a damn if they never do stop; I'll ride as long as an eight-day clock.
Foot in the stirrup and hand on the horn, Best damned cowboy ever was born.
I herded and I hollered and I done very well, Till the boss said, "Boys, just let 'em go to hell."
Stray in the herd and the boss said kill it, So I shot him in the rump with the handle of the skillet.
We rounded 'em up and put 'em on the cars, And that was the last of the old Two Bars.
Oh it's bacon and beans 'most every day,— I'd as soon be a-eatin' prairie hay.