Strawberry Roan

Michael Martin Murphey

    Continúa después del anuncio

    I was hanging round town, just spending my time
    Being out of a job and not earning a dime
    A fellow walks up, and he says, "I suppose
    You're a bronc rider, from the looks of your clothes"

    "Well, you figured me right, and I'm a good one, I claim
    Would you happen to have any outlaws to tame?"
    He says, "I've got one and a good one to buck
    At throwing top riders, he's had lots of luck"

    He says this here's one pony that's never been rode
    And the man that gets on him is bound to get throwed
    I got all heat up and I asked what he'd pay
    To ride this old nag for a couple of days

    Well, he offered me ten, and I says, "I'm your man
    For the bronc isn't living that I couldn't fan"
    He says, "Get your saddle, I'll give you the chance"
    So we hopped in his buckboard and rode to his ranch

    Out in the horse corral, standing alone
    Is an old cavallo, a strawberry roan
    Little pin ears that touch at the tip
    A big 44 brand upon his left hip

    Continúa después del anuncio

    He was spavined all round, and he had pigeon toes
    Little pig eyes and a big roman nose
    U-necked and old, with a long lower jaw
    You could tell at a glance he's a regular outlaw

    Well, I buckle on my spurs, and I'm sure feeling fine
    I pull down my hat and I pick up my twine
    Throw my loop on him and well I know then
    Before he gets rode, I'll sure earn my ten

    I get the blinds on him with a terrible fight
    Next comes the saddle, and I cinch him up tight
    Then I step on him and raise up the blinds
    "Get out of the way, boys, he's bound to unwind"

    Well, I threw him his head, and I'll say he unwound
    He seemed to quit living down here on the ground
    Went up in the east and come down in the west
    I'm sitting up on him and doing my best

    He sure was a frog-walker, he heaved a big sigh
    He only lacked wings for to be on the fly
    Turned his old belly right up to the sun
    He sure was a sunfishing son of a gun

    He's about the worst bucker I've seen on the range
    He could turn on a nickle and give you some change
    I lost both my stirrups and also my hat
    I'm reaching for leather and blind as a bat

    He come down on all fours, and he went up on high
    And he left me a-spinning up there in the sky
    Turned over twice and I come down to the earth
    And I lit into cussing the day of his birth

    Now I know there's ponies that I cannot ride
    There's some of them living, they haven't all died
    But I'll bet my money there's no man alive
    Who can stay with old Strawberry when he makes his high dive

    Información de la canción

    Composición:

    ¿Los datos están equivocados?

    Enviar revisión