Lyrics

I've got no use for the women A true one may seldom be found They'll use a man for his money When it's gone they'll turn him down They're all alike at the bottom Selfish and grasping for all They'll stay by a man when he's winning And laugh in his face when he falls My pal was an honest young puncher Honest and upright and true Till he turned to a gun shooting gambler On account of a girl named Lou They fell in with evil companions The kind that are better off dead When a gambler insulted her picture He filled him full of lead Off in the long night they trailed him Through misquete and thick chapperal I couldn't help think of that woman As I saw him pitch and fall If she'd been the pal that she should have He might have been rasing a son Instead of out there on the prairie To die by a Ranger's gun Death's sharp sting did not trouble His chances for life were too slim Where they were putting his body Was all that worried him He lifted his head on his elbow The blood from his wound flowed red He gazed at his friends gathered round him He looked up at them and he said Bury me out on the prairie Where the coyotes can howl o'er my grave Bury me out on the prairie But from them, my bones please save Wrap me up in a blanket Bury me deep in the ground Cover me over with boulders Of granite, big and brown We buried him out on the prairie Where the coyotes can howl o'er his grave His soul is now a-resting Fron the unkind cut she gave And many another young puncher As he rides past the pile of stones Recalls some similar woman And thinks of his moulderin' bones
Writer(s): Ann Burns, Haynes Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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