Kunci: Db major
Verse 1
C
Well, folks, here's a song from my
G
C
part of the country
Verse 2
Now, way high up in the Sierry Petes where the yellow
Buster Jiggs and Sagebrush Sam
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had a round- up late last fall
They'd taken their horses and their running
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irons and maybe a dog or two
They allowed to brand every long-
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eared calf that came within their view
F
Any old calf with lope- long ears
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that didn't push out by day
C
Got his long horns chiseled,
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C
and his old hide sizzled in the most artistic way
Verse 3
C
Says Buster Jiggs to Sagebrush Sam,
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as he throwed his long leg down
"I'm getting tired of cow- pie- ography and I reckon
They started out on a mighty smart lope,
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for there weren't no side of a ride
And those were the days when an old
C
cowpunch could oil up his dry insides
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they stopped at the Whiskey Row
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And they wound up tight sometime that night,
Verse 4
C
The house turned around, and they set 'em up,
Honest to goodness, to tell the truth, folks,
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them boys got drunk that day
Well, both went out to the Sierry Petes, and they was packin'
But, who should they meet, but the Devil himself,
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come a- prancin' down the road?
F
"Confound you ornery cowboy skunks!
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You'd better headhunt your hole
C
For I am the Devil from the Hell's rim rock
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C
come to gatherin' your souls"
Verse 5
C
"The Devil be damned!", says Buster Jiggs,
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"We boys both know we're tight
Before you corral any cowboy souls,
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you're gonna have one kind of a fight"
He throwed his rope and he throwed it straight,
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and he spun 'er good and true
And he loped the Devil by his pointed horns,
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and he took his dallies too
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Sagebrush Sam was a lariat man
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with his gut line coiled up neat
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He throwed 'er out, and he made him a rope,
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C
an d he roped the Devil's hind feet
Verse 6
C
And they laid him out, and they fetched him down
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while the sizzlin' irons grew hot
They trimmed his horn with a dehornin' saw,
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and they brand him up a lot
They tied ten knots in the old boy's tail,
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and they left him there for a joke
And they left him just a- bellowin' there,
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tied up to a blackjack oak
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Now, if you're ever down in the
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Sierry Petes and you hear one Hell of a wail
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You know it's nothin' but the Devil himself
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C
raising Hell about the knots in his tail
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