Skyball Paint

Now Skyball Paint was a devil's saint

His eyes was a fiery red

Good men have tried this horse to ride

But all of them are dead

Now I won't brag but I rode this nag

Till his blood began to boil

Then I hit the ground and I ate three pounds

Of good old western soil

Singin' hi ho, whoopie ti-yo

Ride him high and down you go

Sons of the western soil

Sons of the western soil

Well, I swore by heck, I'd break his neck

For the jolt he gave my pride (I remember that)

I would slip my noose on the old cayuse

And once more took a ride

Turned around, pretty soon I found

His head where his tail should be

So I said, "Says, I, perhaps he's shy

Or just don't care for me"

Singin' hi ho, whoopie ti-yo

Ride him high and down you go

Sons of the western soil

Sons of the western soil

In town, one day I chanced to stray

Upon old Sheriff Jim

For a hoop and a holler

And a counterfeit dollar

I sold that nag to him

But when he plants the seat of his pants

On Skyball's leather chair

I'll bet four bits when Skyball quits

Old Jim will not be there

Singin' hi ho, whoopie ti-yo

Ride him high and down you go

Sons of the western soil

Sons of the western soil

Sons of the western soil