Old Time Cowboy
Come all you melancholy folks wherever you may be,
I'll sing you about the cowboy whose life is light and free.
He roams about the prairie, and, at night when he lies down,
His heart is as gay as the flowers in May in his bed upon the ground.
They're a little bit rough, I must confess, the most of them, at least;
But if you do not hunt a quarrel you can live with them in peace;
For if you do, you're sure to rue the day you joined their band.
They will follow you up and shoot it out with you just man to man.
Did you ever go to a cowboy whenever hungry and dry,
Asking for a dollar, and have him you deny?
He'll just pull out his pocket book and hand you a note,—
They are the fellows to help you whenever you are broke.
Go to their ranches and stay a while, they never ask a cent;
And when they go to town, their money is freely spent.
They walk straight up and take a drink, paying for every one,
And they never ask your pardon for anything they've done.
When they go to their dances, some dance while others pat
They ride their bucking bronchos, and wear their broad-brimmed hats;
With their California saddles, and their pants stuck in their boots,
You can hear their spurs a-jingling, and perhaps some of them shoots.
Come all soft-hearted tenderfeet, if you want to have some fun;
Go live among the cowboys, they'll show you how it's done.
They'll treat you like a prince, my boys, about them there's nothing mean;
But don't try to give them too much advice, for all of them ain't green.