Tonalità: Ab major•
Verse 1
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This poem was written by
an old Arizona cowboy
by the name of Gale Gardner.
I got to know Gale
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before he died just here a few years ago.
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This song was wro te as
a poem but put to music
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and it became a very famous
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cowboy song too.
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It's called Tying Knots in the
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Devil's Tail.
Way up high in the Sierra Petes
where the Yellow Jack Pines grow tall,
old Sandy Bob and Buster Jigs
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had a roe deer camp last fall.
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Now, they'd taken their horses
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an d branded irons,
maybe a dog or two,
and they allowed they'd brand
all the long -eared calves
that'd come within their view.
And any old doggie that flapped
long ears
didn't bush up a day
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to get his long ears whittled
and his old hide scorched
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in a most artistic way.
Now, one fine day,
old Sandy Bobby
throwed his seagull down
and says, I'm sick of the smell of this burning hair,
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and I louse, I'm going to town.
So they saddles up and hits them
a load
for it weren't no sight of ridin'
them was the days
when a buckaroo could
aisle up his insides.
They starts her off at the
Kentucky Bar
to hit a whiskey roll.
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They ends her up at the depot house
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on 40 drinks below.
Then they sets up, turns around,
goes her the other way
and to tell you the God forsaken truth
them boys got stewed that day.
Well, as they's a -ridin' back to camp,
packin' a pretty good load,
who should they meet
but the devil himself a
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-prancin' down the road?
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Says he, you ornery old cowboy skunk,
you'd better hunt your hole,
for I've just rode up from the
hell's rim rock
to gather in your souls.
Old Sandy Bob said, Devil,
be damned,
we boys is kinda tight,
but you ain't a -gonna gather
no cowboy soul
without one hell of a fight.
So Sandy Bob punched a hole in his rope,
he swung her straight and true,
he lapped it on the devil's horns
and he'd taken his dallys too.
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Now Buster Jiggs was a Rieta man,
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his gut lines coiled up neat,
he takes her down, shakes her out
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and lasts that devil's
hind feet.
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Well they stretch him out,
tail him down
while the iron's getting hot,
crop and swallow forked his ears
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and they branded him up a lot.
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They pruned him up with dehorning shears,
tied knots in his tail for joke,
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then they just rode off
and left him there neck
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to a black jack oak.
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So if you're ever upon
the Sierra Petes
and you hear one hell of a whale,
it's just that devil,
they'll learn about
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the knots they tied in his tail.
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