Music
 
 
180. Old Black Steer Well old Wild Horse Bob was a good cowboy He could boast the best He swore the steer it didn’t live He couldn’t time down clear. The boys they knew of an old back steer A sort of an old outlaw That ran down in the sand hills At the head of the Mesquite draw. Bob bet the boys at two to one That he could tie the steer, The boys they sure did take him on For he couldn’t quite get clear, Then Bob led out old Powderhorn Whose withers and back were broad He prepared to tackle this big black brute That ran down in the draw. But first old Bob sauntered ‘round And old Blackie begin to paw. Then he threw his tail straight in the air ‘n Went a’driftin down the draw. Well old Powederhorn tore after him Boy’d he’d been eatin’ corn And Bob he dropped his old nylon Right around old Blackies horns. Well Powder he torred off right fast Bob’s cinches broke like straw And the Crosby tree and the nylon rope Goes a’driftin down the draw. Old Bob he lit in a mesquite pile. His face and his hands got scratched. He sorta grinned and he says, “Well boys I guess I met my match.” This story has a moral As you can all well see That when you go to rope a steer Don’t tie it to your tree But take your dally welters Accordin’ to California law And you’ll never see your Crosby tree Go driftin’ down the draw. 181. Powderhorn Said I’ll sing you a song About old Powderhorn The greatest cow pony That ever was born it was out north of Roswell Down in New Mexico That I first had the pleasure To watch this horse go. He was owned by Bob Crosby Whose fame was well known in the rodeo world His star it had shone He’d been picking good horses Since the day he was born But never a pony Like Old Powderhorn. He was not much to look at Nor much to see. Upon his left hip, boys He wore the Cross B- Sorrel in color- A pure thoroughbred- Had a star in the middle Of his hammerhead. Fleet as an antelope Quick as a deer He could catch a fast calf Or could bust a big steer But for cuttin’ wild cattle This pony was born That little sorrel cowhorse They called Powderhorn. He worked amongst cattle With skill and with ease. He never disturbed them As quite as you please But always a’watchin And a’workin well back To be in the right spot To take up the slack Smooth as any dancer You’ve seen on his feet And in a tight spot boys He’d turn on the heat. Show him a critter Then get hold of that horn Or you might lose your seat Upon old Powderhorn. People will tell you a cow horse is made By patience and hard work To learn well his trade But a few like good cowboys Are naturally born To be tops in their trade Such was old Powderhorn. 185. Old Paint Old Paint’s a good pony And he paces when he can Good-bye my little darlin’ I’m off for Cheyenne. Chorus Good-bye Old Paint Fare thee well to you all Good-bye my little darlin’ I’ll see you next fall The country’s so wide And your back is sore If we get to Cheyenne I will ride you no more. Chorus Old Paint’s a good pony And he paces when he can Good-bye my little darlin’ I’m off for Cheyenne. Chorus The last time I saw him Was a late in the fall A ridin’ Old Paint And a leading Old Bell. Chorus My foot’s in the stirrup My reins are in my hand Good-bye my little darlin’ My pony won’t stand Chorus 197. Billy the Kid I’ll sing you a true song Of Billy the Kid I’ll sing of the desperate Deeds that he did. Way out in New Mexico Long, long ago When a man’s only chance Was his old fo’ty fo’. When Billy the Kid Was a very young lad In the Old Silver City He went to the bad. Way out in the West, With a gun in his hand, At the age of twelve years He first killed his first man. Fair Mexican maidens Play guitars and sing, A song about Billy Their boy bandit king. Howe’er his young manhood Had reached its sand end, He’d a notch in his pistol For twenty-one men. It was in Sanchez canyon With his English friend, A fellow named Tunstall Who there met his end. That Billy swore vengeance Well down to a man, And swore that he’d get them All in the end. It was on the same night That poor Billy died, “I am not satisfied, There are twenty-one men I have put bullets through, And Sheriff Pat Garret Must make twenty-two.” Now this is how Billy Met his sad fate: The bright moon was shining The hour was late; Shot down by Pat Garret Who once was his friend The young outlaw’s life Had now come to its end. There’s many a man With a face fine and fair Who starts out in life With a chance to be square, But just like poor Billy He wanders astray And loses his life In the very same way. 201. Cattle Call Refrain Hee-whoo-whoo, hoo-oo-hoo Hoo-hoo-hoo-hoo-oo-oo, Hoo-hoo-oo-hoo-oo-hoo- Hoo, hoo-oo-oo, hoo The cattle all bedded Nothin’ well, seems to be wrong. Make my bed ‘neath the skies Look up at the stars. Then I can sing you this song. Refrain repeated. Well, I wake up each mornin’ A new day a dawnin’ Drinkin’ my coffee strong Make my bed in a roll Down the trail I must go Singin’ this old cattle call. Refrain repeated. Each day I ride o’er The range far and wide I’m goin’ home next fall. Well I don’t mind the weather My heart’s like a feather ‘cause always I’ll sing you this call. Refrain repeated. 599. Mi Ranchito Allá tras de la montaña donde temprano se aculta el sol. Quedó mi ranchito triste y abandonado ya mi labor. Allí me pase los años y allí encontré mi primer amor. Se fueron los desengaños los que mataron a mi ilusión Coro: Ay, corozón, que te vas para nunca volver. No me digas adios. No te despidas jamás si no quieres saber de la ausencia y el dolor. Malhayan tus ojos negros que mi embrujaron con su mirar. Si nunca me habieran visto, no fueran causa de mi penar. Ay, corozón, que te vas para nunca volver. Vuelve alegre mejor, amorcito. 1328. Let Me Call You Sweetheart Let me call you sweetheart I’m in love with you. Let me hear you whisper That you love me, too. Keep that love light burning In your eyes so blue. Let me call you sweetheart; I’m in love with you. 1334. Red River Valley From this valley they say you are goin’; I shall miss your bright eyes and sweet smile For you’re taking away all the sunshine That has brightened my path a while. Come and sit by my side if you love me. Do not hasten to bid me adieu. But remember the Red River Valley And the cowboy who’s loved you so true. Repeat both verses. *Note that “Red River Valley” is replaced with”Ruidoso Valley” Mexican Polka 1338. Las Chaparreras Cuando vine a la ciudad Me compré mis chaparreras Y regresé por el rancho Para enamorar rancheras. Cuando vine a la ciudad Me compré mis chaparreras Y regresé por el rancho Para enamorar rancheras. Chaparreras, chaparreras Chaparreritas de cuero! Vayanse lejos las heuras Que yo a las morenas quiero. Las muchachas de mi rancho Éstas sí saben querer Y cuando muerden rebozo Es para corresponder. Las muchachas de mi rancho Éstas sí saben querer Y cuando muerden rebozo Es para corresponder. Chaparreras, chaparreras, Chaparreritas de cuero! Vayanse lejos las hueras Que yo a las morenas quiero. Tu marido está en la cama Vente pa’ la cabecera Con el rosario en la mano Ruega a Diós que pronto muera. Chaparreras, chaparreras Chaparreritas de cuero! Vayanse lejos las hueras Que yo a las morenas quiero. 1355. Siete Leguas Siete Leguas el caballo que Villas más estimaba Cuando oía pitar los trenes, se paraba y relinchaba- Siete Leguas el caballo que Villa más estimaba. En la estación de Irapuato cantaban los horizontes. En la estación de Irapuato cantaban los horizontes. Alli combatió formal la brigada de Agramonte; en las estación de Irapuato cantaban los horizontes. Oye tú, Franciso Villa, ¿qué dice tu corazón, ya no te acuerdas, valiente, que hasta y hasta el paredón tomastes a Torreón como a las tres de la tarde? Como a las tres de la tarde silbó la locomotora. Arriba, Villa, muchacho, ponga la metralladora... ahhhhhhhhh.. como a las tres de la tarde silbó la locomotora. Adios, torres de Chihuahua adios, torres de Cantera. Ya vino Francisco Villa a quitarles lo pantera. Ya vino Francisco Villa a devolver la frontera. 1357. El toro Por ay viene el caporal, cayéndose de borracho. Por ay viene el caporal, cayéndose de borracho. Gritándole a los vaqueros: échenme ese toro gacho. Gritándole a los vaqueros: échenme ese toro gacho. Ea, ea, ea-ea-ea-ea-- allá va el toro-rrua, ju, ju, juy. Echame el cabestro. Esto no sé. Tírame el torito: Rrúa, ja, ja, jay. La vaca era pinta, y el becerro era puro. La vaca era pinta, y el becerro era maro. Y los vaqueros sospechaban que ear hijo de otro toro. Y los vaqueros sospechaban que ear hijo de otro toro. Ea, ea, ea-ea-ea-ea allá va el toro- pásalo -- ya lo pasé; túmbalo -- pos ya lo tumbé; échale el cabresto; de esto no sé; si no sabes, enséñame Ea, ea, ea-ea-ea-ea; rrúa, ja, ja, jay. Echenme ese toro pinto, hijo de la vaca mora; Echenme ese toro pinto, hijo de la vaca mora; que yo quiero capotear, delante de las señoras. que yo quiero capotear, delante de las señoras. Ea, ea, ea-ea, ea-ea; 1361. Corrido del Norte Nací en la frontera, de allá de aquel lado, de allá de aquel lado, puro mexicano. Por más que la gente me juzgue tejano, les aseguro que soy mexicano, de allá de aquel lado. Porque uso de lado el sombrero vaquero y paco pistola y chamarra de cuero; y porque acostumbro el cigarro de hoja y añudo en mi cuello mi máscara roja, se creen otra cosa. Yo fui uno de ellos, soldados de Villa; de lo que no damos valor a la vida - ay - de los que a la guerra llevamos nuestra hembra; de los que morimos amando y cantando; yo fui de ese dando (bando). Yo tuve por novia una joven bonita. La tropa le puso por nombre Adelita. Graciosa y damita, regaba las flores y nos alegraba cantando canciones, canciones de amores. Fue la Valentina mi fiel soldadera y por decedida, 1365. Triago Mi Cuarenta y Cinco Traigo mi cuarenta y cinco con sus cuatro cargadores y traigo cincuenta balas. Las traigo para los traidores. Coro Quien dijo miedo, muchachos, si para morir nacimos? Traigo mi cuarenta y cinco con sus cuatro cargadores. En el llano de Socorro dicen que no hay hombre macho, pero si esos quieren ver, a San Patricio les despacho. Coro 1636. Gol’ Darned wheel Well I can take the wildes’ bronco in the tough old woolly West; I can ride him, I can break him, let him do his level best. I can handle any cattle ever wore a coat of hair, and I had a lively tussle with a great, big grizzly bear. But at last I got my master and he surely made me squeal when the boys, they got me astraddle of that gol-darned wheel. It was at the Eagle Ranch, down on the old Brazos, where I first found that darned contrivance that upset me in the dust. A tenderfoot had brought it; he was wheeling all the way from the sunrise end of freedom out to San Francisco Bay. He tied up at the ranch house for to get outside a meal, never thinking we would monkey with his gol-darned wheel. Old Arizona Jim begun it when he said to Jack McGil: there’s fellows forced to limit bragging on their riding skill, He ventured the admission to the same fellow that he meant was very handy cutter fer as riding broncos went. But he’s find that he was bucking ‘gainst a different kind of deal if threw his leather leggins ‘gainst the gol-darned wheel. Such a slam against my talent made me hotter than a mink, and I swore that I would ride him for amusement or for chink. It was nothing but a plaything for the kids and such about; and they’d have their ideas shattered if they’d lead the critter out. They held it while I mounted and I gave the word to go; the shove they gave to start me wasn’t very slow. But I never spilled a cuss word; I never spilled a squeal - I was a buildin’ a reputation on that gol-darned wheel. Holy Moses and the Prophets, how we split that Texas air, and the wind, it made whip-crackers of my same old curly hair. And I sorta comprehended long as down the hill we went: There was bound to be a smash-up that I couldn’t well prevent. Oh, how them punchers bawled, “Stay with her, Uncle Bill! Stick your spurs in her, you sucker! Turn her muzzle up the hills!” But I never made an answer; I just let those cusses squeal; I was buildin’ a reputation on that gol-darned wheel. The grade was mighty sloping from the ranch down to the creek And I went a -gallifluting like a crazy lightning streak- I went whizzing and a-darting first this way and then that, The darned contrivance sort o’ wabbling like the flying of a bat. I pulled upon the handles, but I couldn’t check her up; And I yanked and sawed and hollowed, but the darned thing wouldn’t stop. Then a sort of a meachin’ in my brain began to steal. That the devil held a mortgage on this gol-darned wheel. I had a sort of a dim and hazy remembrance of the stop, With the world a-goin’ round and the stars all tangled up; Then there came an intermission and it lasted till I found I was laying at the ranch with the boys all gathered round, My doctor, he was a-sewing on the skin where it was ripped, And old Arizona whispered, “Well, old boy, I guess you’re whipped,” And I told him I was busted from sombrero down to heel, And he grinned and said, “You ought to see that gol-darned wheel.”
The Chaparreras
 
When I came to the city
I bought myself some chaparreras
And then I returned to the ranch
To make love to the ranch girls.
When I came to the city
I bought myself some chaparreras
And then I returned to the ranch
To make love to the ranch girls.
Chaparreras, chaparreras
Little chaparreras of leather!
Away with the fair ones
For I like the brunettes.
 
The girls on my ranch
They really know how to make love
And when they coyly bite their shawls
They are actually ready to go.
 
The girls on my ranch
They really know how to make love
And when they coyly bite their shawls
They are actually ready to go.
 
Chaparreras, chaparreras
Little chaparreras of leather!
Away wit hthe fair ones
For I like the brunettes.
 
Your husband is sick in bed
Come and stand by the bedside
With a rosary in your hand
And, pray to God he will soon be dead.
 
Chaparreras, chaparreras
Little chaparreras of leather!
Away with the fair ones
For I like the brunettes.
 
Seven Leagues
 
Seven Leagues was the horse
Preferred by Villa.
When he heard the train whistle,
He would always rear up and neigh
Seven Leagues, the horse
Preferred by Villa.
 
In the Irapuato station,
The birds were singing.
In the Irapuato station,
The birds were singing.
That’s where Agramonte’s Brigade
Went into real combat
In the Irapuato station,
The birds were singing.
 
Hey, Francisco Villa,
What does your heart say;
Don’t you remember, brave warrior,
That when you took Torreon,
You even took their firing squad
At about three in the afternoon?
 
At about three in the afternoon
The locomotive whistled.
Come on, Villa,
Set up the machine gun...
Ahhhhhhhhh...
At about three in the afternoon
The locomotive whistled.
 
Farewell, towers of Chihuahua
Farewell, towers of Cantera.
Francisco Villa is now here
To rid them of their smugness.
Franciso Villa is now there
To restore the border.
 
The Bull
 
There goes the foreman,
So drunk he is staggering.
There goes the foreman,
So drunk he is staggering.
Shouting to the cowboys: Turn loose
That bull with the bent horns.
Shouting to the cowboys: Turn loose
That bull with the bent horns.
Ea, ea, ea-ea-ea-ea--
There goes the bull --
Throw me the halter.
This I don’t know how to do.
Throw that bull to me.
Rrúa, ja, ja, jay.
 
The cow was spotted,
And the calf was pure.
The cow was spotted
And the calf was gray.
And the cowboys suspected
That he was sired by another bull.
And the cowboys suspected
That he was sired by another bull.
Ea, ea, ea-ea-ea-ea
There goes the bull -
Rope him -- I’ve roped him already.
Knock him down -- I’ve knocked him
Down already; get the halter on him;
This I don’t know how to do;
If you know how, teach me.
Ea, ea, ea-ea-ea-ea;
rrúa, ja, ja, jay.
 
Throw me that spotted bull,
Offspring of that black cow;
Throw me that spotted bull,
Offspring of that black cow;
For I want to trick him with a cape
In front of the ladies.
For I want to trick him with a cape
In front of the ladies.
Ea, ea, ea-ea, ea-ea,
 
rrúa, ja, ha, hay.
Allá va el toro -
pásalo -- ya lo pasé.
Túmbalo -- ya lo tumbé
échale el cabresto;
de esto no sé;
si no sabes, enséñame
 
rrúa, ja, ha, hay.
There goes the bull -
Rope him -- I’ve roped him already.
Knock him down -- I’ve knocked him
Down already; get the halter on him;
This I don’t know how to do;
If you know how, teach me.
 
Ballad of the North
 
I was born on the border,
Over on the U.S. side,
Over on the U.S. side.
But I’m really all Mexican.
Even though people say
That I’m a Texas.
I assure you
That I’m really all Mexican from
Over there, on the U.S. side.
 
Just because I cock
My Cowboy hat
And I carry a gun
And wear a leather jacket
And because I
Roll my own cigarettes
And tie on my neck
A red kerchief,
People think I’m not a Mexican.
 
I was one of those:
One of Villa’s soldiers;
One of those who can easily
Give up his life - ay -
One of those who takes to battle
His own woman;
One of those who dies
Loving and singing;
I belong to that faction.
 
My beloved was
A pretty lass.
The troops named her
Adelita;
Oh, such a graceful lady she was.
She watered the flowers
And cheered us
Singing songs,
Singing love songs.
 
Valentina was
My faithful companion and soldier
And, because of her courage and will,
llegó a coronela.
Curó con sus manos
mis pocas heridas;
fue inseparable
por toda la vida,
mi fiel Valentina.
 
 
She got to be colonel.
With her hands
She cured my few wounds.
My loyal Valentina
Was inseparable
For the rest of our lives.
 
I Carry my Forty-Five
 
I carry my forty-five
With its four magazines
And I carry fifty bullets.
I carry them for traitors.
 
Chorus
 
Who said fear, boys,
If we are born to die?
I carry my forty-five
With its four magazines.
 
In the plain of Socorro
They say there are no heros
But if they want to see some,
Send them to San Patricio.
 
Chorus