| |
| IT was boots and spurs and hat and gun | |
| In a hole by a willow tree; | |
| And that is how we planted him | |
| Where the line fence ought to be. | |
| |
| Bill left his gun with the town marshal, | 5 |
| An’ I at the livery; | |
| An’ I only had two jolts of gin | |
| An’ a little rye in me | |
| When up comes this Hyannis Hal, | |
| An’ he wouldn’t drink with me. | 10 |
| |
| He snorted some an’ cavorted some, | |
| He slobbered, an’ wagged his chin; | |
| An’ he swore that he would wade in the gore | |
| Of us an’ all our kin! | |
| “Roll up your pants, Hyannis, | 15 |
| An’ come a-steppin’ in!” | |
| |
| I got my gun from the livery, | |
| An’ Bill at the town marshal, | |
| An’ we was joggin’ pleasantly | |
| Along the Wolf Creek trail; | 20 |
| An’ at Warbonnet Springs rides out | |
| This same Hyannis Hal. | |
| |
| Says I, “You missed the section line; | |
| She’s on my land five rod!” | |
| “I put her there, an’ there she stays, | 25 |
| If I got to wade in blood! | |
| |
| “I’ll wade in blood to my belt gets red, | |
| I’ll wade in blood to my chin!” | |
| I answered back like a feller does | |
| On a couple of jolts of gin. | 30 |
| It seemed like there was too much talk; | |
| So the doin’s, they begin. | |
| |
| It was boots and spurs and hat and gun | |
| In a hole by a willow tree; | |
| And that was how we planted him | 35 |
| Where the line fence ought to be. | |
| |
