A cowboys life is a weary dreary life
Some people think it free from all care
Its rounding up cattle from morning to night
On the lone prairie so drear
When the spring work comes in then our troubles begin
The weather being fierce and cold
We get almost froze with the water on our clothes
And the cattle we can scarcely hold.
Just about four o’clock the cook will holler out
“Roll our boys its almost day”
Through his broken slumbers the puncher he will ask
Has the short summer night passed away.
“Saddle up,” “Saddle Up,” the boss will holler out
When we’re camped by the Pecos stream
Where the wolves and the owls with their terrifying howls
Disturb us in our midnight dreams.
Once I loved to roam but now I stay at home
All you punchers take my advice
Sell your bridle and your saddle quit your roaming and travels
And tie on to a cross eyed wife.
Image by Gerald Brimacombe
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