Letras: Chris Ledoux. Tie A Knot In The Devil's Tail.
Way up high in the Sierra peaks
Where the yellow jack pines grow tall
Old Sandy Bob and Buster Jiggs
Had a roundup camp last fall
Oh, they'd taken the horses and the runnin' irons
And may be a dog or two
And they swore they'd brand all long ear calves
That came within their view
And any old doggie that flapped long ears
And didn't brush up by day
Got his long ears whittled, and his old hat scorched
In a most artistic way
Now one fine day old Sandy Bob
He throwed his easy go down
Well, I'm sick of the smell of this here burnin' hair
And allows I'm a goin' to town
So they saddles up and they hits 'em a lope
For it weren't no sign of a ride
And then was the days when a buckaroo
Could oil up his insides
Oh, they starts her off at Kentucky bar
At the head of a whiskey row
And they winds up down by the depot house
Some forty drinks below
And then sets up and turns around
And goes her the other way
And to tell you the God forsaken truth
Them boys got stewed that day
As they was a ridin' back to camp
A packin' a pretty good load
Well, who should they meet but the Devil himself
A prancin' down the road
Says he, "You ornery cowboy skunks
You better hunt your holes
For I've come up from Hell's Rim Rock
To gather in your souls"
Says Sandy Bob, "Old devil be damned
We boys is kinda tight
And ya ain't gonna get no cowboy souls
Without one hell of a fight"
So Snady Bob punched a hole in his rope
And he swang her straight and true
And he lapped it onto the Devils' horns
And he taken his dallies too
Now Buster Jiggs was a Reata man
With his gut line coiled up neat
So he shakes her out and he built him a loop
And he lassoed up the Devil's hind feet
Well, they stretched him out and they tailed him down
While the iron was gettin' hot
And they cropped and swallow forked both his ears
And they branded him up a lot
They pruned him up with a dehorning saw
And they knotted his tail for a joke
They then rode off and left him there
Neck to a blackjack oak
So if your ever up high in the Sierra peaks
And you hear one hell of a wail
You'll know it's that Devil a bellerin' about them
Knots tied in his tail
Where the yellow jack pines grow tall
Old Sandy Bob and Buster Jiggs
Had a roundup camp last fall
Oh, they'd taken the horses and the runnin' irons
And may be a dog or two
And they swore they'd brand all long ear calves
That came within their view
And any old doggie that flapped long ears
And didn't brush up by day
Got his long ears whittled, and his old hat scorched
In a most artistic way
Now one fine day old Sandy Bob
He throwed his easy go down
Well, I'm sick of the smell of this here burnin' hair
And allows I'm a goin' to town
So they saddles up and they hits 'em a lope
For it weren't no sign of a ride
And then was the days when a buckaroo
Could oil up his insides
Oh, they starts her off at Kentucky bar
At the head of a whiskey row
And they winds up down by the depot house
Some forty drinks below
And then sets up and turns around
And goes her the other way
And to tell you the God forsaken truth
Them boys got stewed that day
As they was a ridin' back to camp
A packin' a pretty good load
Well, who should they meet but the Devil himself
A prancin' down the road
Says he, "You ornery cowboy skunks
You better hunt your holes
For I've come up from Hell's Rim Rock
To gather in your souls"
Says Sandy Bob, "Old devil be damned
We boys is kinda tight
And ya ain't gonna get no cowboy souls
Without one hell of a fight"
So Snady Bob punched a hole in his rope
And he swang her straight and true
And he lapped it onto the Devils' horns
And he taken his dallies too
Now Buster Jiggs was a Reata man
With his gut line coiled up neat
So he shakes her out and he built him a loop
And he lassoed up the Devil's hind feet
Well, they stretched him out and they tailed him down
While the iron was gettin' hot
And they cropped and swallow forked both his ears
And they branded him up a lot
They pruned him up with a dehorning saw
And they knotted his tail for a joke
They then rode off and left him there
Neck to a blackjack oak
So if your ever up high in the Sierra peaks
And you hear one hell of a wail
You'll know it's that Devil a bellerin' about them
Knots tied in his tail
Ledoux, Chris
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