I'm going to leave old Texas now.
They've got no use for the long-horn cow!
They've plowed and fenced my cattle range
And the people there are all so strange!
I'll take my horse, I'll take my rope
And hit the trail upon a lope!
Say: Adiós! to the Alamo
And turn my head toward Mexico!
I'll make my home on the wide, wide range,
The people there are not so strange!
The hard, hard ground will be my bed
And the saddle seat will hold my head
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And when I waken from my dreams
I'll eat my bread and my sardines
And when my ride on Earth is done
I'll take my chances with the holy one.
I'll tell Saint Peter that I know
A cowboy's soul ain't white as snow
But in that far-off cattle land
He sometimes acted like a man.
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