Mary Celestia Parler j.R. crymes
DeValls Bluff, Ark.
April 17, 1954
The Old Flying U
I was riding out broncs for the old Flying U,
Gettying forty a month, I'm a good buckaroo,
The boss come around, and he said, "Say, my lad,
You look pretty good riding hosses that's bad.
I aint got no more outlaws to break,
I'll buy you a ticket and give you a stake,
At riding and cussing, well you aint so slow,
And might do some good at the big rodeo.
While I was putting the bull in the shoot,
A-packing my spurs to the heel of my boots,
I looked the bull over and to my surprise
He was a foot and a half between his two eyes.
Atop of his shoulders there was a big lump,
I cinches my rigging right back of that hump,
But once on his middle, he let out a scream,
He came down with a bellow, and the rest is a dream.
He jumped to the left but he land to the right,
But I aint no green-horn, I'm still sitting tight,
The dust(?)startsto falling right out of his skin,
A-waving his horns right under my chin.
By the time he was bellied (?) he couldn't be beat,
For showing the buzzards the soles of his feet,
He was dipping so low that my boots filled with dirt,
And I'm making a whip from the tail of my shirt.
He starts high-diving, I let out a groan,
We went up together, but he come back alone.
Then I turned ovew and away I could see
He's a-pawing up dirt just a-waiting for me,
I picture a and a big slab of wood, (grave)
Says "Here lies a twister that thought he was good."
When I landed, he charged, but I've got enough sense
To outrun that bull to a hole in the fence.
I saw through that hole, and I want you to know,
I aint going back to no wild west show,
A-riding them brahmas, you can bet I'm all through,
I'm a-sore-footing back to the old Flying U.
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