Oh, Yavapai was a cowpuncher neat Single women looking sex tonight adult forum From Arizona's fair clime. He lived in the saddle, and stole all the cattle From here to the Mexican line. His ridin' was sassy, his ropin' was classy, He liked to mix mingle with maul; Not much of a thinker, was more of a drinker, Could uphold his end in a brawl. Had a head like a hatchet, a face to match it, And a nose like a pelican's beak, His legs was all bowed and he was pigeon-toed, With a that was plumb mild and meek. Well, he'd been in the weather, his skin is like leather, His hands they's horny and rough; You could spy by his stride he's plumb salty inside And fer hell he was mor'n a mite rough. Well, a very good hand, with a whole lot of sand, He could lasso a snake at a lope. But too much on the brag, and a-chewin' the rag Brought old to the end of his rope. He once told a tale of a-hittin' the trail, A-huntin' new ranges to ride; They'd up a bounty in Yavapai County Fer whoever could bring in his hide. Well, he rides o'er a rise and a-battin' his eyes He spied him a gold-laden stage; Then his horse hit a lope and his guns they did smoke And he left them old boys in a rage. He took all the gold like the robbers of old, Then he high-tailed her south for the line; But to his surprise that old sheriff was wise And he dry-gulched -'s legged mine. Well, fanned his gun fast but they got him at last, And he died with his boots on his feet. The Wild West was rid of a dangerous With the shootin' of Yavapai. SOURCE: The Badmen: Songs, Stories and Pictures of the Western Outlaws *** Single Crystle, 20

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