I stayed in Texas till they runned me out,
Then in Bull Frog they chased me about,
I walked a little and rode some more,
For I've shot up a town before
And it's my night to hollow — Whoo-pee!
Give me room and turn me loose
I'm peaceable without excuse.
I never killed for profit or fun,
But riled, I'm a regular son of a gun
And it's my night to hollow — Whoo-pee!
Good-eye Jim will serve the crowd;
The rule goes here no sweetnin' 'lowed.
And we'll drink now the Nixon kid,
For I rode to town and lifted the lid
And it's my night to hollow — Whoo-pee!
You can guess how quick a man must be,
For I killed eleven and wounded three;
[p. 45] And brothers and daddies aren't makin' a sound
Though they know where the kid is found
And it's my night to hollow — Whoo-pee!
When I get old and my aim aint true
And it's three to one and wounded, too,
I won't beg and claw the ground;
For I'll be dead before I'm found
When it's my night to hollow — Whoo-pee!
Baird Boyd.
MARTA OF MILRONE
I SHOT him where the Rio flows;
I shot him when the moon arose;
And where he lies the vulture knows
Along the Tinto River.
In schools of eastern culture pale
My cloistered flesh began to fail;
They bore me where the deserts quail
To winds from out the sun.