Capo 1
Sleep in a bed role of canvas
As no-see-ums feed on your ears
Wind blows the dust just like buckshot
And I ain t never seen it rain much out here
Smell your own sweat in the evenin
I wash up at the galvanized tank
Nearest town forty miles, the cook here he don t smile
And all these young horses are rank
But come a ty yi yipee I O, on the back of my Caballo
I hope to tie one on when I can
My spurs they don t ring much, I never did sing much
But I m a sure enough, a Buckaroo Man
Cold fingers stiff in the mornin
By noon it s a hundred and three
Five year old slicks in the canyon
And never a hint of a breeze
Jug-headed hollow-back ponies
Provide all with hours of grief
There s snakes in the shade, choya on the grade
And a half a ton of grit between my teeth
Chorus X 3
