Old Rough and Ready, he's a trump,
Yeo-ho, yeo-ho!
He'll wipe old Santa Anna out
And put the greasers all to rout,
Way down in Mexico.
Then we'll march back by and by,
Yeo-ho, yeo-ho!
And kiss the gals we left to home
And never more we'll go and roam,
Way down in Mexico.
RATTLESNAKE—A RANCH HAYING SONG
A nice young ma-wa-wan
Lived on a hi-wi-will;
A nice young ma-wa-wan,
For I knew him we-we-well.
To my rattle, to my roo-rah-ree!
This nice young ma-wa-wan
Went out to mo-wo-wow
To see if he-we-we
Could make a sho-wo-wow.
To my rattle, to my roo-rah-ree!
He scarcely mo-wo-wowed
Half round the fie-we-wield
Till up jumped—come a rattle, come a sna-wa-wake,
And bit him on the he-we-weel.
To my rattle, to my roo-rah-ree!
He laid right dow-we-wown
Upon the gro-wo-wound
And shut his ey-wy-wyes
And looked all aro-wo-wound.