The Old Chisholm Trail

The Old Chisholm Trail

Come along, boys, and listen to my tale
I’ll tell you of my troubles on the old Chisholm trail

Coma ti yi youpy, youpy ya, youpy ya
Coma ti yi youpy, youpy ya.

I started up the trail October twenty third
I started up the trail with the 2-U herd.

Oh, a ten dollar boss and a forty dollar saddle
And I’m goin’ to puchin’ Texas cattle.

I woke up one morning on the old Chisholm trail
Rope in my hand and a cow by the tail.

I’m up in the mornin’ afore daylight
And afore I sleep the moon shines bright.

Old Ben Bolt was a blamed good boss
But he’d go to see the girls on a sore-backed hoss.

Old Ben Bolt was a fine old man
And you’d know there was whiskey wherever he’d land.

My hoss throwed me off at the creek called Mud
My hoss throwed me off round the 2-U herd.

Last time I saw him he was going cross the level
A-kicking up his heels and a-running like the devil.

It’s cloudy in the West, a-looking like rain
And my damned old slicker’s in the wagon again.

Crippled my hoss, I don’t know how
Ropin’ at the horns of a 2-U cow.

We hit Caldwell and we hit her on the fly
We bedded down the cattle on the hill close by

No chaps, no slicker, and it’s pouring down rain
And I swear, by God, I’ll never night-herd again.

Feet in the stirrups and seat in the saddle
I hung and rattled with them long-horn cattle.

Last night I was on guard and the leader broke the ranks
I hit my horse down the shoulders and I spurred him in the flanks.

The wind commenced to blow, and the rain began to fall,
Hit looked, by grab, like we was goin’ to loss them all.

I jumped in the saddle and grabbed holt the horn
Best blamed cow-puncher ever was born.

I popped my foot in the stirrup and gave a little yell
The tail cattle broke and the leaders went to hell.

I don’t give a damn if they never do stop
I’ll ride as long as an eight day clock.

Foot in the stirrup and hand on the horn
Best damned cow-puncher ever was born.

I herded and I hollered and I done very well
Till the boss said, Boys, just let ‘em go to hell.

Stray in the herd and the boss said kill it
So I shot him in the rump with the handle of the skillet.

We rounded ‘em up and put ‘em on the cars
And that was the last of the old Two Bars.

Oh it’s bacon and beans most every day
I’d as son be a-eatin’ prairie hay.

I’m on my best horse and I’m goin’ at a run
I’m the quickest shootin’ cowboy that ever pulled a gun.

I went to the wagon to get my roll
To come back to Texas, dad-burn my soul.

I went to the boss to draw my roll
He had it figgered out I was nine dollars in the hole.

I’ll sell my outfit just as soon as I can
I won’t punch cattle for no damned man.

Goin’ back to town to draw my money
Goin’ back home to see my honey.

With my knees in the saddle and my seat in the sky
I’ll quit punching cows in the sweet by and by.

Coma ti yi youpy, youpy ya, youpy ya
Coma ti yi youpy, youpy ya.