[00:00.000] 作曲 : Traditional
[00:00.066]Well, it was way high up in the Sierry Petes
[00:03.536]Where the yellow pines grow tall
[00:06.080]Rusty Diggs and Sandy Sam
[00:08.029]Had a round-up camp last fall (Hey)
[00:10.389]They had their ponies and their running irons
[00:12.458]And maybe a dog or two
[00:14.582]And they 'lowed they'd brand every lop-eared calf
[00:16.880]To come within their view (Yuh-hah)
[00:18.976]Well many a lop-eared dogie
[00:21.109]If he didn't hush up by day
[00:23.218]Had his long ears whittled and his old hide scorched
[00:25.484]In a most artistic way
[00:27.502]Then says Rusty Diggs to Sandy Sam
[00:29.750]As he throwed his seago down
[00:31.884]"I'm tired of cowboy-ography
[00:34.095]"And I figures I'll go to town" (Yessir)
[00:45.742]They starts her in at Kentucky Bar
[00:48.135]The head of the Whisky Row
[00:50.209]And they ends 'er at the Depot House
[00:52.437]Some forty drinks below
[00:54.556]They winds her up and they turns her 'round
[00:56.883]And they go her the other way
[00:59.240]Tell you the Lord-forsaken truth
[01:01.229]Them boys got drunk that day
[01:03.466]Well, they was a-headin' back to camp
[01:05.588]And a-packin' a mighty good load
[01:08.027]Who should they meet but the Devil himself
[01:09.987]Come prancin' down the road?
[01:12.106]And the Devil he said, "You cowboy skunks
[01:14.345]You better go hunt your holes
[01:16.576]'Cause I've come up from the Hell's rim rock
[01:18.657]To gather in your souls"
[01:21.808]Says Rusty Jiggs to the Devil
[01:24.247]"Though I know we're tight
[01:26.175]No Devil ever took an old cow punch
[01:28.460]Without one kind of a fight"
[01:40.042]So Rusty Jiggs punched a hole in his rope
[01:42.377]And he swang 'er straight and true
[01:44.546]He lapped it on the devil's horns
[01:46.546]And he takin' his dallies too
[01:48.645]Now Sandy Sam was a reata man
[01:50.875]With his gut line coiled up neat
[01:52.920]So he shakes her out and he builds him a loop
[01:54.978]And he laps the Devil's hind feet
[01:58.171]They stretched him out, they tailed him down
[02:00.424]While the irons was a-gettin' hot
[02:02.509]They cropped and swallow-forked his ears
[02:04.650]And they branded him up a lot
[02:06.749]Well they pruned him up with a dehorning saw
[02:08.937]Tied knots in his tail for a joke
[02:11.226]Then they rode off, left him there
[02:13.265]Necked up to a black-jack oak
[02:15.355]So if you're ever up in the Sierry Petes
[02:17.555]And you hear one hell of a wail (Woo!)
[02:19.821]You'll know it's that Devil a-bellerin' around
[02:21.975]About them knots in his tail
[02:23.963]You'll know it's that Devil a-bellerin' around
[02:26.335]About them knots in his tail

作曲 : Traditional
Well, it was way high up in the Sierry Petes
Where the yellow pines grow tall
Rusty Diggs and Sandy Sam
Had a round-up camp last fall (Hey)
They had their ponies and their running irons
And maybe a dog or two
And they 'lowed they'd brand every lop-eared calf
To come within their view (Yuh-hah)
Well many a lop-eared dogie
If he didn't hush up by day
Had his long ears whittled and his old hide scorched
In a most artistic way
Then says Rusty Diggs to Sandy Sam
As he throwed his seago down
"I'm tired of cowboy-ography
"And I figures I'll go to town" (Yessir)
They starts her in at Kentucky Bar
The head of the Whisky Row
And they ends 'er at the Depot House
Some forty drinks below
They winds her up and they turns her 'round
And they go her the other way
Tell you the Lord-forsaken truth
Them boys got drunk that day
Well, they was a-headin' back to camp
And a-packin' a mighty good load
Who should they meet but the Devil himself
Come prancin' down the road?
And the Devil he said, "You cowboy skunks
You better go hunt your holes
'Cause I've come up from the Hell's rim rock
To gather in your souls"
Says Rusty Jiggs to the Devil
"Though I know we're tight
No Devil ever took an old cow punch
Without one kind of a fight"
So Rusty Jiggs punched a hole in his rope
And he swang 'er straight and true
He lapped it on the devil's horns
And he takin' his dallies too
Now Sandy Sam was a reata man
With his gut line coiled up neat
So he shakes her out and he builds him a loop
And he laps the Devil's hind feet
They stretched him out, they tailed him down
While the irons was a-gettin' hot
They cropped and swallow-forked his ears
And they branded him up a lot
Well they pruned him up with a dehorning saw
Tied knots in his tail for a joke
Then they rode off, left him there
Necked up to a black-jack oak
So if you're ever up in the Sierry Petes
And you hear one hell of a wail (Woo!)
You'll know it's that Devil a-bellerin' around
About them knots in his tail
You'll know it's that Devil a-bellerin' around
About them knots in his tail