"Sift along, boys, don't ride so slow;
Haven't got much time but a long round to go.
Quirt him in the shoulders and rake him down the hip;
I've cut you toppy mounts, boys, now pair off and rip.
Bunch the herd at the old meet,
Then beat 'em on the tail;
Whip 'em up and down the sides
And hit the shortest trail."
I'm a howler from the prairies of the West.
If you want to die with terror, look at me.
I'm chain-lightning—if I ain't, may I be blessed.
I'm the snorter of the boundless prairie.
He's a killer and a hater!
He's the great annihilator!
He's a terror of the boundless prairie.
I'm the snoozer from the upper trail!
I'm the reveler in murder and in gore!
I can bust more Pullman coaches on the rail
Than anyone who's worked the job before.
He's a snorter and a snoozer.
He's the great trunk line abuser.
He's the man who puts the sleeper on the rail.
I'm the double-jawed hyena from the East.
I'm the blazing, bloody blizzard of the States.
I'm the celebrated slugger; I'm the Beast.
I can snatch a man bald-headed while he waits.
He's a double-jawed hyena!
He's the villain of the scena!
He can snatch a man bald-headed while he waits.
Drink that rot gut, drink that rot gut,
Drink that red eye, boys;
It don't make a damn wherever we land,
We hit her up for joy.