And he certainly is.
This song came out of a little town called
Cave Creek, Arizona.
About a fella I met there
And the way I felt about where I lived
There was a cowboy coming off the road
Come to pass the time away
And he pulled the stool to the bar
And pushed his hat back on his hip
And I listened to the stories told
The words the cowboy said
He said, I could tell you stories
About the engines on the plane
Talk about Wells Fargo
And the coming of the trains
Talk about the slaughter
Of the buffalo that roamed
Sing a song of settlers
About looking for a home
Well, the man with the big hat
He's buying
Drink up while the drinking is free
Drink up to the cowboy
The dead or the dying
Drink to my compadres in need
His shirt was brown and faded
His hat was white and black
And the pants that once were blue
Well, they were gray
And had a pocket gone in back
And he had a finger missing
From the hand that rolled the smoke
While he smiled and talked to cowboys
He knew it weren't no joke
He said, I seen a day so hot
Your pony couldn't stand
If your water bag was dry
Don't you count upon the land
And winters, well, I've seen winters
When your boots froze in the snow
And your only thought was leaving
But you had no place to go
The man with the big hat
He's buying
Drink up while the drinking is free
Drink up to the cowboys
The dead or the dying
Drink to my compadres in need
He had it easy there at the bar
With his foot resting on the rail
He laughed and talked the times he'd had
While he was out living on the trail
And the silence never broken
As the words poured from his lips
Just as quiet as the.45 revolver
That he carried upon his hip
He said, I rode the cattle drive
From here to San Antone
Ten days in the saddle
And you know I was weary to the bone
And I rode from here to Wichita
Without a woman's smile
And the campfire where I cooked my beans
Was the only light for miles
Well, the man with the big hat
Why, he's buying
Drink up while the drinking is free
Drink up to the cowboys
The dead or the dying
Drink to my compadres in need
He rolled one more cigarette
And he walked out toward them swingin' doors
And I heard his spurs a-janglin'
As his boot heels hit the floor
He loosened up his belt a notch
And pulled his hat down on his head
He turned to say goodbye to me
And this is what he said
The high lines chased the highways
The fences closed the range
To see a workin' cowboy
Here's a sight that might estrange
And the cowboy's life was lonely
And his life was not the best
If it wasn't for the life that he lived
Well, it wouldn't mean nowhere
And the man with the big hat
He's buying
Drink up while the drinking is free
Drink up to the cowboys
The dead or the dying
Drink to my compadres in need
He rolled one more cigarette
and he walked out toward them swingin' doors
And he walked out toward them swingin' doors
And I heard his spurs a-janglin'
As his boot heels hit the floor
Here's my CB song.
Said break one nine four Jesus
Bring it on
Won't you break one nine four Jesus
Bring it on
Break one nine four Jesus
On life's highway he will please us
Won't you break one nine four Jesus
Bring it on
Let Jesus run your front door
Bring it on
Let Jesus run your front door
Bring it on back
Riding down that super slab
He's the very best front door a man could have
Jesus run your front door
Bring it on back
Won't you break one nine four Jesus
Bring it on
Won't you break one nine four Jesus
Bring it on back
Break one nine four Jesus
On life's highway he will please us
Won't you break one nine four Jesus
Bring it on
Let Jesus run your back door
Bring it on back
Break it broke
Jesus run your back door
Bring it on
He'll sit you in that rocking chair
And you'll feel so comfortable sitting there
Let Jesus run your back door
Bring it on
Said I'm breaking for a heavenly home base
Bring it on
I'm breaking for a heavenly home base
Bring it on
Breaking for a heavenly home base
I got a friend with a heavenly home place
Said the break one nine four Jesus
Bring it on
Said the break one nine four Jesus
Bring it on back
Said break one nine four Jesus
Bring it on
Break one nine four Jesus
On life's highway he will please us
Said the break one nine four Jesus
their beaches will bring it all
Thank you.
Here's a song about bears.
If you want to be a bear, might as well be a grizzly.
This song all came about because my
great-great-great-aunt Minnie,
my great-great-great-aunt Minnie married a
full-blood grizzly bear years and years ago.
She said his fur tickled her.
Who might argue with a bear?
His name was Uncle Growl.
He taught me a lot.
He taught me this song.
Some folks say there ain't no bears in Arkansas.
Some folks never seen a bear at all.
Some folks say the bears go around eating
babies raw.
Some folks got a bear across the hall.
Some folks say the bears all go around smelling bad.
Some folks say that a bear is honey sweet.
Some folks say, well this bear is the best I
ever had.
There's some folks got a bear underneath their feet.
Some folks drive the bear out of the wilderness,
and some that see a bear will pay a fee.
And me, I just bear up to my bewildered best.
There's some folks even seen the bear in me.
Here's to hell, here's to hell.
There's some folks drive the bear out of the wilderness,
and there's some that see a bear will pay a fee.
And me, I just bear up to my bewildered best.
Some folks even seen the bear in me.
So meet a bear by God and take him out to lunch
with you.
And even though your friends might stop and stare,
just remember that the bear there in the bunch
with you,
well, they just don't come no better than a bear.
No, they just don't come no better than a bear.
Well, they just don't come no better than,
no, they just don't come no better than,
just don't come no better than a bear.
Or just made to do. Yes....
But I hear
How tail spend
His way
Down the needy
All my ways
I play Yeah
When I need it
To make
My home
I don't claim to be superstitious, but I often
wonder why things are going so good.
When I do, I knock three times on top of my head.
That's the block of wood I carry around with me
all the time.
I'm not down on my luck.
I guess my spirit's been good.
Still, would you believe me, I'm knocking on wood.
I'm not saying the blues.
I don't think I would if I could.
I dare not deceive you, it would do me no good.
Oh, when your love goes away and the clouds
cloud your day and your soul is to sail on
a lot.
And the sail might be nice, it's a hell of a
price to discover that it's all you've got.
What if I disappeared?
Would you want to know the details like Hansel
and Gretel?
I could leave you a trail by the side of the
road in the free country air.
If you're looking for me, baby, you'll find me
there, yes, you will.
Oh, when your love goes away and the clouds
cloud your day and your soul is to sail on
a lot.
And the sail might be nice, it's a hell of a
price to discover that it's all you've got.
Well, I got time on my side and the outlook is good.
Say, would you believe me, I'm knocking on wood.
Oh, would you believe me, I'm knocking on wood.
Oh, I'm not superstitious, I'm a little bit
suspicious of anyone who doesn't knock on wood.
Oh, would you believe me, I'm knocking on wood.
6:00 silence of a new day beginning is heard in
a small Texas town.
Like a signal from nowhere the people who live
there are up and moving around.
Cause there's bacon to fry and there's biscuits
to bake.
On a stove the Salvation Army won't take.
Open the window and you turn on the fan.
Cause it's hotter than hell when the sun hits
the land.
Walter and Fannie Day, while they own the
grocery they sell most all the deals you need.
They've been up and working since early this morning.
They got the whole village to feed.
They put out fresh eggs and throw bad ones away.
They brought it because of the heat yesterday.
And the store is all dark so you can't see the flies.
They settle on round steak and last Monday's pie.
Sleepy Hills Drugstore and the cafe while
they're open today.
Coffee inside is bubbling hot.
Folks that ain't working why hell they'll sit
there till sundown.
Talk about what it is they ain't got.
Someone just blew a clutch in the old pickup truck.
And it seems like they're riding on a streak of
bad luck.
Dr. Bill came and the well has gone dry.
Seems their grown kids don't care whether they
live or die.
You know I can recall when Cop Pro Texas was a
good place for men to live and raise a family.
Long time ago though back before the cotton gin
closed down.
There's still some folks around the town recall
the day old Steve Hughes lost his arm in that
infernal machine.
He walked all the way home bleeding to death.
Back in the early 50's it was Army Corps
engineers come down and dammed up the Brassus
River and built Lake Whitney.
The highway folks improved the road through Cop
Pro to the lake and the fishermen came down
from Dallas and Fort Worth.
Folks there at Cop Pro found out how many
people in a small town could make a living in
the bait business.
Been awful quiet though since the Santa Fe
Railroad they closed down the depot.
Built a brand new trestle out west of town and
now the train why hell it don't stop here anymore.
Now the train why they don't stop here anymore.
The last time I remember that train stopping at
the depot was when me and my Aunt Vida we came
riding back from Waco.
I remember I was wearing my long pants and we
were sharing a conversation with a man.
He said his old ballpoint pens and paints.
And the train stopped once in Clifton where my
Aunt bought me some ice cream.
And my mom was there to meet us when the train
pulled into Cop Pro.
But now kids at night they break wind of lights
and the sound of trains only remains in the
memory of the ones like me.
Who have turned their backs on the splintered
tracks in the walls that stand on the railroad
land where we used to play.
And then I run away from the depot man, running
as fast as we can.
Don't run too fast now as the train just don't
stop here anymore.
I remember me and brother we used to run down
to the depot just to listen to the whistle when
the train pulled into Cop Pro.
And the engine began shining black as gold
amidst the fire.
And the engineer he'd smile and say howdy how
you fellas.
And the people by the windows playing cards and
reading papers looked as far away to me as next
summer school vacation.
But now kids at night they break wind of lights
and the sound of trains only remains in the
memory of the ones like me.
Who have turned their backs on the splintered
tracks in the walls that stand on the railroad
land where we used to play.
And then I run away from the depot man, running
as fast as we can.
I wonder why it is you don't see too many young
folks around Cop Pro these days.
Soon as the last part of May rolls around and
the seniors, the ones that do graduate, well
they run off to Cleburne or Fort Worth, you know.
Get them a good job, you know. Depending of
course on what it is they know, you know.
They go to work for the Lyme company there in
Cleburne or the telephone folks in Fort Worth
if they can climb worth a damn.
And then there are some that don't leave Boston
County, Texas much at all except for grocery.
They live there and they die there and when
they do die they go down to Meridian, lay them
out in state there.
The family comes and holds court.
The next day they haul the body back up to Cop
Pro, Texas and lay it out in state once again
at the Methodist Church or the Baptist Church
or the Church of Christ.
Any one of the big three there in Cop Pro.
The Rivers Brother something or other comes up
and says the magical godlike words.
They bury the body but not before they view it.
They love to view the body in Boston County, Texas.
They say the damnedest things. Things like my,
my don't they look natural.
Looks like they're asleep, don't it? They
always look as dead as hell to me.
Well Mary Martin was a school girl, just
seventeen or so.
When she married Billy Archer about fourteen
years ago.
Not even out of high school folks said it would
not last.
When you grow up in the country you grow up
mighty fast.
They married in a hurry and Martin's poor
school was out.
Folks said well hell, she's pregnant, you just
wait and you'll find out.
It came about that winter one gray November morn.
Well the first of them anymore to come, a baby
boy was born and cattle is their game.
And Archer is the name they give to the acres
that they own.
If the brasses don't run dry and the newborn
calves they don't die.
Another year from Mary we'll have flow. Another
year from Mary we'll have flow.
Old Billy kept what cattle that his daddy could afford.
I seen him bouncing across the cactus in 1954.
But the cows was sticky and skinny and the
weeds was all that grew.
Old Billy kept the place alive was the only
thing he knew.
And Mary cooked the supper and Mary scrubbed
the clothes.
And Mary busted horses and she blew the babies nose.
And Mary in a shotgun kept the rattlesnakes away.
How she kept on smiling what nobody could ever say.
And cattle is their game. And Archer is the
name they give to the acres that they own.
If the brasses don't run dry and the newborn
calves they don't die.
Well another year from Mary we'll have flow.
Another year from Mary we'll have flow.
And the drought that ended in 1957 was a curse
upon the land.
Wasn't a soul in Bossky County, Texas able to
give old Bill a helping hand.
And the ground was cracked and broken and the
truck was out of gas.
The cows can't feed on prickly pear instead of
growing grass.
Well the weather hit got the water and a snake
bite took a child.
The fire in the old barn took the hay that Bill
had piled.
The mortgage got the money and the screwworm
got the cow.
Well the years have come to Mary and she's
waiting for them now.
And cattle is their game. Archer is the name
they give to the acres that they own.
If the brasses don't run dry and the newborn
calves they don't die.
Well another year from Mary we'll have flow.
Another year from Mary we'll have flow.
My how they fly, they fly on by.
6:00 silence of a new day beginning is heard in
the small Texas town.
Like a signal from nowhere the people who live
there are up and moving around.
There's bacon to fry, biscuits to bake. On a
stove the Salvation Army won't take.
Open the window and you turn on the fan.
Cause it's hotter than hell when the sun hits
the land.
(music playing)