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
They had their ponies and their running irons
And maybe a dog or two
And they ‘lowed they’d brand every lop-eared calf
That came within their view
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 sigil down
“I’m tired of cowboy-ography
“And I figures I’ll go to town”
They starts her in at the Kentucky Bar
At the head of the Whisky Row
And they winds her up at the Depot House
And forty drinks below
Then he winds her up and they turns her ’round
And they goes 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 hole
“‘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 no cowpunch
“Without one kind of a fight”
So Rusty Jiggs punched a hole in his rope
He swang it straight and true
He lassoed it onto the devil’s horns
And he’s takin’ his dallies true
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 lassoed 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 and 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
Know it’s that Devil a-bellowin’ around
About them knots in his tail
You’ll know it’s that Devil a-bellowin’ around
About them knots in his tail
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