Disclaimer: Might have a few sentences that might be racist, I apologize to whom it ever offends
Texas Jack, you are amusin', great Lord Harry, how I laughed,
When I seen your rig and saddle with its bulwarks fore-and-aft;
Holy smoke! In such a saddle how the dickens can ya fall?
Why, I've seen a gal ride bareback with no bridle on at all!
How, I'd like to see a bushman use yer fixings, Texas Jack;
On the remnant of a saddle, he can ride to hell and back.
Why, I've heard a mother cheerin' when her kid went tossin' by,
Ridin' bareback on a bucker that had murder in his eye.
You may talk about your ridin' in the city, bold and free,
Talk of ridin' in the city, Texas Jack, but whered you'd be,
When the stock horse snorts an bunches all is quarters in a hump,
And the saddle climbs a sapling, an the horse-shoes split a stump?
No, before you teach the native, you must ride without a fall
Up a gum or down a gully, nigh as steep as any wall,
You must swim the roarin' Darling when the flood is at its height
Bearin' down the stock and stations to the Great Australian Bight.
You cant count the bulls and bisons that you copped with your lasso
But a stout old Myall bullock perhaps could learn you somethin new;
You had better make your will an leave your papers neat and trim,
Before you make arrangements for the lassoin' of him;
And you say you're death on Injuns! We've got somethin' in your line,
If yer think your fighting's equal to the likes of Tommy Ryan.
Take your carcass up to Queensland where the alligators chew,
And the carpet-snake is handy with his tail frail lasso;
Ride across the hazy regions where the lonely emus wail,
An yell find the darkll track yer while yer lookin' for his trail;
He can track yer without stoppin' for a thousand miles or more;
Come again, and he will show yer where yer spat the year before.
No, you'd best be mighty careful, youll be sorry you came here,
When you're skewered to the fragments of your saddle with a spear,
When the boomerang is sailin' in the air, then heaven help ya!
It will cut yer head off goin', and come back again and scalp ya!
Oh, Texas Jack, you are amusin', great Lord Harry, how I laughed,
When I seen your rig and saddle with its bulwarks fore- an'-aft;
Holy smoke! From such a saddle how the dickens can ya fall?
Why, I've seen a gal ride bareback with no bridle on at all!
Texas Jack, you are amusin', great Lord Harry, how I laughed,
When I seen your rig and saddle with its bulwarks fore-and-aft;
Holy smoke! In such a saddle how the dickens can ya fall?
Why, I've seen a gal ride bareback with no bridle on at all!
How, I'd like to see a bushman use yer fixings, Texas Jack;
On the remnant of a saddle, he can ride to hell and back.
Why, I've heard a mother cheerin' when her kid went tossin' by,
Ridin' bareback on a bucker that had murder in his eye.
You may talk about your ridin' in the city, bold and free,
Talk of ridin' in the city, Texas Jack, but whered you'd be,
When the stock horse snorts an bunches all is quarters in a hump,
And the saddle climbs a sapling, an the horse-shoes split a stump?
No, before you teach the native, you must ride without a fall
Up a gum or down a gully, nigh as steep as any wall,
You must swim the roarin' Darling when the flood is at its height
Bearin' down the stock and stations to the Great Australian Bight.
You cant count the bulls and bisons that you copped with your lasso
But a stout old Myall bullock perhaps could learn you somethin new;
You had better make your will an leave your papers neat and trim,
Before you make arrangements for the lassoin' of him;
And you say you're death on Injuns! We've got somethin' in your line,
If yer think your fighting's equal to the likes of Tommy Ryan.
Take your carcass up to Queensland where the alligators chew,
And the carpet-snake is handy with his tail frail lasso;
Ride across the hazy regions where the lonely emus wail,
An yell find the darkll track yer while yer lookin' for his trail;
He can track yer without stoppin' for a thousand miles or more;
Come again, and he will show yer where yer spat the year before.
No, you'd best be mighty careful, youll be sorry you came here,
When you're skewered to the fragments of your saddle with a spear,
When the boomerang is sailin' in the air, then heaven help ya!
It will cut yer head off goin', and come back again and scalp ya!
Oh, Texas Jack, you are amusin', great Lord Harry, how I laughed,
When I seen your rig and saddle with its bulwarks fore- an'-aft;
Holy smoke! From such a saddle how the dickens can ya fall?
Why, I've seen a gal ride bareback with no bridle on at all!
