{"id":815,"date":"2010-10-07T17:24:29","date_gmt":"2010-10-07T21:24:29","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.duncansonelectric.com\/blog\/?page_id=815"},"modified":"2012-10-28T11:31:47","modified_gmt":"2012-10-28T15:31:47","slug":"bad-brahma-bull","status":"publish","type":"page","link":"http:\/\/www.duncansonelectric.com\/blog\/bad-brahma-bull\/","title":{"rendered":""},"content":{"rendered":"<p><span style=\"font-family: Tahoma; font-size: large;\"><strong><span style=\"text-decoration: underline;\">Bad Brahma Bull<\/span><\/strong>\u00a0 <span style=\"font-family: Tahoma; font-size: medium;\">by Curley Fletcher (1892-1954)<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<p><span style=\"font-family: Tahoma; font-size: medium;\">I was snappin out broncs at the Old Flyin&#8217; U,<br \/>\nAt forty a month, a plum good buckaroo.<br \/>\nWhen the boss came around and he says, hey my lad,<br \/>\nWell you look pretty good ridin&#8217; horses that&#8217;s bad.<br \/>\nYou see, I ain&#8217;t got no more outlaws to break,<br \/>\nBut I&#8217;ll buy you a ticket and give you a stake.<br \/>\nAt ridin&#8217; them bad uns, well you ain&#8217;t so slow,<br \/>\nAnd you might do some good at the big rodeo.<\/span><\/p>\n<p><span style=\"font-family: Tahoma; font-size: medium;\">While they&#8217;re puttin&#8217; the bull into the chute,<br \/>\nI&#8217;m strappin&#8217; my spurs to the heels of my boots.<br \/>\nI look that bull over and to my surprise,<br \/>\nIt&#8217;s a foot and a half in between his two eyes.<br \/>\nOn top of his shoulders he&#8217;s got a big hump.<br \/>\nI cinches my riggin&#8217; just back of that lump.<br \/>\nI lites in his middle and lets out a scream.<br \/>\nHe comes out with a beller and the rest is a dream.<\/span><\/p>\n<p><span style=\"font-family: Tahoma; font-size: medium;\">Well he jumps to the left and he lands towards the right.<br \/>\nBut I ain&#8217;t no green horn &#8211; I&#8217;m still sittin&#8217; tight.<br \/>\nThe dust starts to foggin&#8217; right out of his skin.<br \/>\nHe&#8217;s a wavin&#8217; them horns right under my chin.<br \/>\nAt a sunnin&#8217; his belly he couldn&#8217;t be beat.<br \/>\nHe&#8217;s a showin&#8217; the buzzards the soles of his feet.<br \/>\nHe&#8217;s a dippin&#8217; so low that my boots filled with dirt.<br \/>\nHe&#8217;s a makin&#8217; a whip of the tail of my shirt.<\/span><\/p>\n<p><span style=\"font-family: Tahoma; font-size: medium;\">He&#8217;s a snappin&#8217; the buttons right off of my clothes,<br \/>\nA buckin&#8217; and a bawlin&#8217; and a blowin&#8217; his nose.<br \/>\nThe crowd was a cheerin&#8217; both me and that bull.<br \/>\nHe needed no help, while I had my hands full.<br \/>\nThen he went to fence rowin&#8217; and a weavin&#8217; behind.<br \/>\nMy head starts to snappin&#8217; &#8211; I sorta went blind.<br \/>\nHe starts in high divin&#8217; &#8211; I lets out a groan,<br \/>\nWe went up together, but he comes back alone.<\/span><\/p>\n<p><span style=\"font-family: Tahoma; font-size: medium;\">Up high I turns over and below I can see,<br \/>\nHe&#8217;s a pawin&#8217; up dirt just a waitin&#8217; for me.<br \/>\nI can picture a grave and a big slab of wood,<br \/>\nSayin&#8217; here lies the twister who thought he was good.<br \/>\nThen I notices somethin&#8217; don&#8217;t seem can be true,<br \/>\nThat the brand on his hip was a big Flyin&#8217; U.<br \/>\nWhen I landed he charged, but I got enough sense,<br \/>\nTo outrun that old bull to the hole in the fence.<\/span><\/p>\n<p><span style=\"font-family: Tahoma; font-size: medium;\">I dives through that hole and I want you to know,<br \/>\nI ain&#8217;t goin&#8217; back to no Wild West show.<br \/>\nAt a straddlin&#8217; them brahmas you can bet I&#8217;m all through<br \/>\nI&#8217;m sore footin&#8217; it back to the old Flyin&#8217; U.<\/span><\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\"><span style=\"font-family: Tahoma; font-size: medium;\">&#8212;&#8212;&#8212;&#8212;&#8212;&#8212;&#8212;&#8212;&#8212;&#8212;&#8212;&#8212;&#8212;&#8212;&#8212;<\/span><\/p>\n<p><span style=\"font-family: Tahoma; font-size: medium;\">And here\u2019s a link to the tune as sung by Tex Ritter: <\/span><a href=\"http:\/\/www.youtube.com\/watch?v=FwaNmvvqaKM\">http:\/\/www.youtube.com\/watch?v=FwaNmvvqaKM<\/a><\/p>\n<p><span style=\"font-family: Tahoma; font-size: medium;\">&#8212; Joe Duncanson &#8211; 7 October, 2010<\/span><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>Bad Brahma Bull\u00a0 by Curley Fletcher (1892-1954) I was snappin out broncs at the Old Flyin&#8217; 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&#8217; horses that&#8217;s bad. You see, I ain&#8217;t got no more outlaws to break, [&hellip;]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"parent":0,"menu_order":142,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"closed","template":"","meta":[],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.duncansonelectric.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/815"}],"collection":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.duncansonelectric.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages"}],"about":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.duncansonelectric.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/page"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.duncansonelectric.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.duncansonelectric.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=815"}],"version-history":[{"count":20,"href":"http:\/\/www.duncansonelectric.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/815\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":822,"href":"http:\/\/www.duncansonelectric.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/815\/revisions\/822"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.duncansonelectric.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=815"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}