Lirik Lagu Tyin' Knots In The Devil's Tail - Ramblin' Jack Elliot
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Way high up in the Sierry PeaksWhere the yellow-jack pines grow tall,Old Buster Jiggs and Sandy BobHad a round-up camp last fall.
Well they took along their running ironsMaybe a dog or two,And they 'lowed thy'd brand every long-eared calfThat came within their view.
Now every little long-eared dogieThat didn't push up by day,Got his long ears whittled and his old hide scorchedIn a most artistic way.
One fine day, says Buster Jiggs,As he throws his seago down,"I'm tired of cow-pyrographyAnd I think I'm a goin' into town."
Well they saddled up, and they hit a lopeFor it warn't no sight of a ride,And them was the days that a good cow-punchCould oil up his insides.
Well they started in at Kentucky Bar,At the head of Whisky Row,And they wound her up at the Depot HouseAbout forty drinks below.
Well they sets 'em up and they turns aroundAnd they started in the other way,And to tell the God-forsaken truthThem boys got drunk that day.
They was on their way, goin' back to campA-packin' that awful load,When who should they meet but the Devil himselfCome a-traipsin' down the road.
He says, "You ornery cowboy skunksYou better go hunt for your holes,'Cause I've come up from Hell's rim rockJust to gather in your souls.
"The Devil be damned," says Buster Jiggs,"Us boys is a little bit tight;But you don't go gatherin' no cowboys' soulsWithout one helluva fight."
Now Buster Jiggs could ride like hellAnd throw a lasso, too,So he threw it over the Devil's hornsAnd he took his dallies true.
Now Sandy Bob was a reata manWith his gut-line coiled up neat;But he shook her out and he builds a loopAnd he roped the Devils hind feet.
Well t
Well they took along their running ironsMaybe a dog or two,And they 'lowed thy'd brand every long-eared calfThat came within their view.
Now every little long-eared dogieThat didn't push up by day,Got his long ears whittled and his old hide scorchedIn a most artistic way.
One fine day, says Buster Jiggs,As he throws his seago down,"I'm tired of cow-pyrographyAnd I think I'm a goin' into town."
Well they saddled up, and they hit a lopeFor it warn't no sight of a ride,And them was the days that a good cow-punchCould oil up his insides.
Well they started in at Kentucky Bar,At the head of Whisky Row,And they wound her up at the Depot HouseAbout forty drinks below.
Well they sets 'em up and they turns aroundAnd they started in the other way,And to tell the God-forsaken truthThem boys got drunk that day.
They was on their way, goin' back to campA-packin' that awful load,When who should they meet but the Devil himselfCome a-traipsin' down the road.
He says, "You ornery cowboy skunksYou better go hunt for your holes,'Cause I've come up from Hell's rim rockJust to gather in your souls.
"The Devil be damned," says Buster Jiggs,"Us boys is a little bit tight;But you don't go gatherin' no cowboys' soulsWithout one helluva fight."
Now Buster Jiggs could ride like hellAnd throw a lasso, too,So he threw it over the Devil's hornsAnd he took his dallies true.
Now Sandy Bob was a reata manWith his gut-line coiled up neat;But he shook her out and he builds a loopAnd he roped the Devils hind feet.
Well t
