by T.C Leonard

Created on: October 19, 2009   Last Updated: October 20, 2009

"Legends of the Chisholm Trail"


A cowboy joined a cattle drive
Just north of Abilene
To ride the Chisholm Trail;
He was young and dumb and green
The first day out was long and hot;
The sun was beating down
At day's end he left his horse
And tumbled to the ground

A seasoned, weather-beaten hand
Who'd ridden with the best
Said, "Son, be sure to take a look
Before you get your rest

The dadgum earth is crawlin',
And you're a lucky pup...
One time in ten you'll be okay,
And you just used yours up"

The second day, this young un,
Flopped on the trail again,
And he landed in a cowpile,
Stunk up the camp, and then
He rode drag on the third day
'cause he still smelled like sin
It was the choice of all the hands
To keep the boy downwind

But fools don't learn their lessons well,
Like a lad out on the trail,
And when the third day ended,
He stretched out, without fail
He let out a loud and lonesome cry
That rang out to Kingdom Come
And shot up with cactus needles
Buried in his aching bum

You'd think most anybody would
Learn from his past mistakes,
But next night out our cowboy
Stretched out on a rattlesnake
I'm sure by now you know his fate;
Is there really any doubt?
Not one cowpoke in the camp
Would suck the poison out!

That's just the way it was out west
On the many cattle trails,
And very few made Omaha
With poison in their tails,
And there's a tombstone on the plains
That marks the cowboy's death:
"Here lies the dumbest greenhorn
Who has ever drawn a breath"

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