THE STRAWBERRY ROAN
(Curley Fletcher)
I was standin' 'round town just spendin' my time,
Bein’ out of a job, and not earnin’ a dime
When a feller steps up and he says, "I suppose
You're a bronc' bustin' man by the looks of your clothes."
"Well yure guessin’ me right, I’m a good one," I claims,
"D’ya happen to t’ have bad ones t’ tame?"
He says, "I've got one and a bad one t’ buck;
And a’throwin' good riders, he's had lots of luck."
He says this old pony has never been rode
for the boys that get on ‘im are bound t’get throw’d
I gets up all excited and ask’d what he’d pay
If I’d ride this old pony for a couple of days.
He offers a ten spot. I says, “I’m yure man,’for the bronc never lived that I couldn’t fan
no the bronc never lived nor never drew breath
that I couldn’t ride ‘til he starved plum to death.”
So he says, "Git yure saddle, I'll give you a chance."
In the buckboard I hops and we rides to the ranch.
Until morning I waits and right after chuck I went out to see
If this outlaw could buck.
Down in the hoss coral standin’ alone
was this caballo, a strawberry roan
his legs were all spavin’d he had pidjun-toes
little pin-eyes and a big roman nose
Little pig-ears all crimped at the tips
and a big “44” branded on his left hip
with a ewe-nec and ho. with long lower jaw
You could see with one eye He’s a reg’lar outlaw
Well, I puts on m’ spurs. I ‘shure feelin’ fine
I pulls down my hat and I coils up m’twine
Then I piles m’loop on ‘im and well I knew then
If I’d ride this old pony I’d shure earn my ten
Well, I gits the blind on ‘im , It shure was a fight
M’saddle comes next and I screws her down tights
Then I climbs upon him and raises the blind
I’m a ridin’ his middle to see him unwind
Well he bows his old neck and I guess he unwound
for he seems to quit livin’ down there on the ground
he goes up in the ast and comes down in the west
and t’ride in his middle I’m a doin’ m’best.
Well he bows his old neck and I guess he unwound
For he seems to quit livin’ down there on the ground
He goes up in the east, comes down in the west
and t’ride in his middle, I’m a doin’ m’best
He starts a ‘frog walkin’, he heaves a big sigh
and he only needs wings t’be on the fly
He’s ‘bout the worse bucker I’ve seen on the range
He can turn on a nickel and give you some change
And when he’s a ‘buckin’ he squeals like a shoat
I’ll tell ya no foolin’ He’s shure got m’goat
I'm right in his middle to see him unwind
Now, I’ll tell ya no foolin’ this pony can step
and t’ride in his middle I’m b uildin’ a “rep”
When he goes up on all four comes down on his side
don’t see how he keeps from losin’ his hide
I loses m’stirrups and also m’hat
and I starts pullin’ leather as blind as a bat
with an utmost jump he goes up on high
leaves me sittin’ on air way up in the sky.
I turns over twice an’ I comes back t’earth
an’ i lights in a cussin’ the day of his birth
cause I knows this old pony I’m unable t’ride
there’s some of them left thay haven’t all died
but I’ll bet m’money there’s man not alive
who can ride old strawberry when he makes his high dive
oh, that strawberry roan,
Oh, that strawberry roan!
that sun-fishin’ critter’s worth leavin’ alone
there’s not a bronc buster from Texas to Nome who can ride old Strawberry Roan
