Tying Knots In The Devils Tail

A A A A Way high up in The Sierra Peaks E Where the yellow-jack pines grow tall Old Sandy Bob and Buster Jinks A Had a round-up camp last fall They'd took their horses and their running irons E and maybe a dog or two 'lowed they'd brand all the long-eared calves A That came within their view Well many a long-eared dogie E That didn't hush up by day Had his long ears whittled and his old hide scorched A In a most artistic way Then one fine day, said Buster Jinks E As he throwed his seago down "I'm tired of cowpiography A And as allows I'm a goin' to town." They saddles 'er up and hits for the road E And it warn't no sign of a ride For them was the days that an old cowhand A Could oil up his insides They started at a Kentucky Bar E At the head of Whiskey Row They winds 'er up the Depot House A Some forty drinks below They sets 'er up and turns 'er around E And goes the other way I'll tell you the Lords-forsaken truth A Them boys got drunk that day As they was a headin' back to the camp E Packin' a pretty good load Well who should they meet but the Devil himself A Come a-prancin' down the road Now the Devil he said you coward skunks E Had better go hunt you a hole 'Cause I come up from the Hell bring muck A To gather in your souls Verse 11 Said Buster Jinks "were just from town E Feelin' kinda tight And you ain't gonna get no cowboy souls A Without some kind of a fight." Verse 12 So he punches a hole in his old throw rope E Slings it straight and true He ropes the Devil right around the horns A And he take his slack up too Verse 13 Now Sandy Bob was a reita man E With his rope all coiled up neat But he shakes her out, throws out a loop A And he ropes the Devils hind feet Verse 14 Well they throwed him down on the desert ground E While the irons was a gettin' hot They cropped his horns, loped off his ears A And branded him up a lot Verse 15 They pruned him up with a dehornin' saw E And knotted his tail for a joke Rode off and left him bellerin' there A Necked up to a live Jack oak Verse 16 Well if you're up in the Sierra Peaks E And you hear one awful wail You'll know it ain't nothin' but the Devil himself N. C .......Raisin' hell 'bout them knots in his tail