I ride an old paint

I ride an old paint, I lead an old Dan
I'm goin' to Montana to throw the hoolihan
They feed in the coulees, they water in the draw
Their tails are all matted, their backs are all raw

Ride around little doggies, ride around them slow
For the fiery and snuffy are rarin' to go

Old Bill Jones had a daughter and a son
One went to college, the other went wrong
His wife, she got killed in a poolroom fight
But still he's a-singin' from mornin' till night

Ride around little doggies, ride around them slow
For the fiery and snuffy are rarin' to go

When I die, take my saddle from the wall
Place it on my old pony, lead him out of his stall
Tie my bones to my saddle and turn our faces to the West
And we'll ride the prairie we love the best

Ride around little doggies, ride around them slow
For the fiery and snuffy are rarin' to go


[One of the earliest songs I remember from my mother's nearly constant singing. It's one of those tunes that paints a whole story in your mind...though the landscape has changed in thirty years.]

[More American folk songs]