Bad Brahma Bull  by Curley Fletcher (1892-1954)

I was snappin out broncs at the Old Flyin’ U,
At forty a month, a plum good buckaroo.
When the boss came around and he says, hey my lad,
Well you look pretty good ridin’ horses that’s bad.
You see, I ain’t got no more outlaws to break,
But I’ll buy you a ticket and give you a stake.
At ridin’ them bad uns, well you ain’t so slow,
And you might do some good at the big rodeo.

While they’re puttin’ the bull into the chute,
I’m strappin’ my spurs to the heels of my boots.
I look that bull over and to my surprise,
It’s a foot and a half in between his two eyes.
On top of his shoulders he’s got a big hump.
I cinches my riggin’ just back of that lump.
I lites in his middle and lets out a scream.
He comes out with a beller and the rest is a dream.

Well he jumps to the left and he lands towards the right.
But I ain’t no green horn – I’m still sittin’ tight.
The dust starts to foggin’ right out of his skin.
He’s a wavin’ them horns right under my chin.
At a sunnin’ his belly he couldn’t be beat.
He’s a showin’ the buzzards the soles of his feet.
He’s a dippin’ so low that my boots filled with dirt.
He’s a makin’ a whip of the tail of my shirt.

He’s a snappin’ the buttons right off of my clothes,
A buckin’ and a bawlin’ and a blowin’ his nose.
The crowd was a cheerin’ both me and that bull.
He needed no help, while I had my hands full.
Then he went to fence rowin’ and a weavin’ behind.
My head starts to snappin’ – I sorta went blind.
He starts in high divin’ – I lets out a groan,
We went up together, but he comes back alone.

Up high I turns over and below I can see,
He’s a pawin’ up dirt just a waitin’ for me.
I can picture a grave and a big slab of wood,
Sayin’ here lies the twister who thought he was good.
Then I notices somethin’ don’t seem can be true,
That the brand on his hip was a big Flyin’ U.
When I landed he charged, but I got enough sense,
To outrun that old bull to the hole in the fence.

I dives through that hole and I want you to know,
I ain’t goin’ back to no Wild West show.
At a straddlin’ them brahmas you can bet I’m all through
I’m sore footin’ it back to the old Flyin’ U.


And here’s a link to the tune as sung by Tex Ritter:

— Joe Duncanson – 7 October, 2010