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That

Cowboy Cafe
original campfire sing-a-longs

2014 CW BAYER
.

THAT COWBOY CAFE


2014 CW Bayer
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Introduction
Fragments of verse drift in the smoke from the western
campfire, pieces of stories, parts from the heart, sometimes torn
from their meaning but still potent as the voice strains in the dry air,
the wind threatens from the mountains and the dust lies packed but
ready to blow. Long nights as a child strumming an old Stella and,
since then, journeys through the hills to hear the hobo laments that
linger from those who lived out there and who now live there
again, I chant in the shadows and invite you to join in.
A sing-a-long holds some repetitionwords whose magic may
be ill-conveyed here on the page but which echoes with feeling in
the canyons where lightning strikes. A sing-a-long as set forth here
may be the whole song sung by all or, as when I often sing, a story
told by the singer with the responses or choruses sung by the
gangthe assembled.
For the gathered guitars, the sing-a-long song contains strong,
simple melodies and allows many to strum together easily.
In the cities, people often shun direct and magic language
preferring instead a ruminating and oblique angst that seems to
betoken sensitivity. However, by the sage or pines allusion to the
crowd does not count for much. Bold statements and clear voices
carry into the stars.
Every good song has a story. Ive stuck some here, for you. Hope
to see you down the road to sing together and swap lies. Track me
down at www.nevadamusic.com.
CW Bayer


THAT COWBOY CAFE .................................................................................................... 5
PASSIN THRU ............................................................................................................... 6
GOT NO LOVIN NOW .................................................................................................... 7
BLACK POWER IN THE CROCK ....................................................................................... 8
I HAVE TO WALK HOME SIX MILES ............................................................................... 9
BOBCAT IN THE BUNCH .............................................................................................. 10
SIGHIN, LYIN, CRYIN, DYIN FER YOU ........................................................................... 11
BUDDY WONT YOU GIVE ME A RIDE .......................................................................... 12
CAUSE THE BRIGHT LIGHTS TURN A BUCKAROO BLUE ................................................ 13
HONEY DONT YOU MARRY A RAILROAD MAN ........................................................... 14
LET IT GO ................................................................................................................... 15
L-U-V SPELLS LOVE ..................................................................................................... 16
HAVE YOU SEEN THE DAMSEL WHO STOLE MY CHECKERED PANTS ............................ 17
AT THE COWCAMP JAMBOREE ................................................................................... 18
SHE AINT CALLED SADIE NO MORE ............................................................................ 19
THE COWTOWN BALL ................................................................................................. 20
WHEN ITS RAGTIME IN NEVADA ............................................................................... 21
THE V&TS BACK IN TOWN AGAIN .............................................................................. 22
CARSON CITY SERENADE ............................................................................................ 23
CUZ HER MAMA WAS THERE THAT NIGHT .................................................................. 24
DONT GO DANCIN SPORTIN YOUR SPURS ................................................................. 25
ON THE EXTRATERRESTRIAL HIGHWAY ...................................................................... 26
THOSE WILD WESTERN WOMEN ................................................................................ 27
COUSIN JACK ............................................................................................................. 28
GIVE ME BACK NEVADAS MOON ............................................................................... 29
STRANGER, WALK THAT WILD DREAM ....................................................................... 30

THAT COWBOY CAFE

For all seeking place that is real. I am always looking. I make lists of them at
www.nevadamusic.com and those places are where you will find me.


I'm drivin down a road where the pickup trucks are slow,
Far from the big highway.
I'm searchin for a sign, sayin, "breakfast ninety nine",
I'm lookin for that Cowboy Caf.
That Cowboy Cafe, that little greasy spoon,
That Cowboy Cafe, and let the jukebox whine a tune.
The waitress she ain't spoiled and the coffee's always boiled.
I'm lookin for that Cowboy Cafe.
The notice on the door says, "lunch from ten to four",
And "soup is the special of the day."
There's always ham and peas, no substitutions please,
I'm lookin for that Cowboy Cafe.
That Cowboy Caf.
Im thinkin way ahead, Im hopin Ill get fed
Flapjacks a fallin off my plate,
A slice of apple pie and a side of fries,
Im lookin for that Cowboy Cafe.
That Cowboy Caf.
With a checkered table cloth and the crackers always soft,
They don't mind if you spend the day.
You can while away the hours tryin to smell the plastic flowers,
I'm lookin for that Cowboy Cafe.
That Cowboy Caf.

PASSIN THRU
I would traipse the hills and return with treasures: a broken bedspring, a rusty can, a piece of
glass. Id mount these on the mantle and ponder them on cold nights. When the latest big
recession hit, I realized that Nevada could show the world how to accomplish boom and
bust, so many place names now just sand.

A purple shard bathed in sunlight, serenaded by the western wind,


An old bottle from an old saloon where the dance came to an end,
Hit the lips of a salt-flat maid who bought it in nineteen two,
You can toss it hand to hand, passin thru.
Passin thru, the coyotes cryin,
Passin thru, the west wind sighin.
The silvers gone with the ragtime songs.
Buddy, whatll you do?
Passin thru, headin down the road ,
Passin thru, with a heavy load.
Were all alike, lookin for a strike,
Passin thru.
Each evenin she would walk the sage, a vision in a flowered frock,
By cottonwood where the head-frame stood and her Bill drilled in the rock,
The whiskey gave her one fine jolt and washed away the blues,
Till she threw it in the road, passin thru.
Passin thru.
A crust of sand on the edge of glass at the end of camp,
Held her final fallen tear as she cursed that minin scamp.
Soon the desert moon would rise and show hed no more crew,
Just a dream of dry romance, passin thru.
Passin thru.

GOT NO LOVIN NOW


These verses can be sung as call/response. The responsesfor the gangare underlined in
the first verse. Then the gang can sing the whole chorus.

Got no lovin now, got no lovin now,


Headin down the road, feelin low,
Got no lovin now.
See you in my dreams, see you in my dreams,
Weary and worn till the morn,
See you in my dreams.
Out where the zephyr roars across the flat,
I ruined my boots, lost my cowboy hat.
Feelin kinda lonesome, tell ya anyhow.
Tryin to smile, all the while, got no lovin now.
Got no lovin now, got no lovin now,
Headin down the road, feelin low,
Got no lovin now.
Tie yer whiskey down, tie yer whiskey down,
Pour me a shot, make it hot,
Tie yer whiskey down.
Take tomorrow back, take tomorrow back,
Put it in the box, turn the locks,
Take tomorrow back.
Got not lovin.
Wake me in the grave, wake me in the grave,
Honey when youre done havin fun,
Wake me in the grave.
Where the river ends, where the river ends,
Sinkin in the dirt, all my hurt,
Where the river ends.
Got not lovin.

BLACK POWER IN THE CROCK

For 20 years at the Rendezvous they supplied me with an electric cord and a cottonwood
tree. Then the powers-that-be noticed the event wasnt making money. The mountain men
shot their cannon and sang this with me. The gang oughta sing the chorus.

Late one night at Rendezvous I took some apple pie,


From Rattlesnake McGee sayin, heres mud in yer eye.
I tilted back the jug, boys, and got the tallest shock,
To find he had included black powder in the crock.
I soared across the heavens and past a thousand stars,
I tipped my hat at Jupiter and Mars.
Flyin past the moon, I chipped a bit of rock,
Glint to act as flint for black powder in the crock.
Twould nota been so special if I didnt smoke a pipe,
Exhalin apple vapors the potion set alight.
Soon I left the ground and I joined a feathered flock,
Dancin and a singin of black powder in the crock.
I soared.
Renegades and Injuns, scouts and trappers too,
Possum, fox and beaver in the smoky blue.
Squirrel, rabbit, coon, the animals could talk,
Dancin round the fire for black powder in the crock.
I soared.
What goes up must come down, the mountain men declare,
Next day I dug up Rattlesnake, asked him how he faired.
Im makin apple pie, he said, twill be my private stock.
Tis me mithers recipe, black powder in the crock.
I soared.

I HAVE TO WALK HOME SIX MILES

In the music, theres a stop before the refrain, sung by the gang: I have to walk home six
miles.

At the hometown casino out in windy town,


The pit boss Billy says lay your money down.
And sweet lovin Alice, she just likes to smile,
Every time I go there, I have to walk home six miles.
I get late to the crossroad, the devil is waitin,
He asks me buddy, why you hesitatin?
Cuz Ive been driftin down the road in style,
Sportin two dollar shoes, I have to walk home six miles.
I met my little sweetie in the alley one night,
I knew it was love when she turned out the light.
I got to dreamin money has gone out of style,
When she sends me packin, I have to walk home six miles.
I get to my door, my sweet mama is yellin,
You can write the letters but you just aint spellin.
The moral of the story hits me after a while,
To get an education, I have to walk home six miles.
I filled out an application to get myself a job,
I told em all the banks I have tried to rob.
But nobody wants me, still my cards on file,
Left holdin the bag, I have to walk home six miles.
It aint the way the moon seems be cryin,
It aint the way my stars are always lyin.
Its standin in the rain and knowin Im goin to smile.
So happy go lucky, I have to walk home six miles.
At the hometown casino out in windy town,
The pit boss Billy says lay your money down.
And sweet lovin Alice, she just likes to smile,
Every time I go there, I have to walk home six miles.

BOBCAT IN THE BUNCH


The gang oughta sing the chorus proper. And some oughta sing the response: Mexico!

Bobcat in the bunch and I ain't got one hunch,


Where those poor dogies aim to go.
Ill run 'em up and down, head 'em back and chase 'em round,
This must be the way to Mexico.
To Mexico (Mexico!), to Mexico (Mexico!),
This must be the way to Mexico.
I'll run 'em up and down, head 'em back and chase 'em round,
This must be the way to Mexico.
There's a lady in Juarez dotes on every word I says,
When she do the polka I'm aglow.
After all that lah-dee-dah her baby calls me pa,
This must be the way to Mexico.
To Mexico.
Cow pie in my eye and my whiskers full of flies,
All I really wants a little dough.
After sleepin on this nag I'll sidle like a rag,
This must be the way to Mexico.
To Mexico.

10

SIGHIN, LYIN, CRYIN, DYIN FER YOU

The urban cowboy craze ruined the two-steptaking a bouncy, vigorous and syncopated
couple-dance and turning it into a glib slide. The gang should sing the chorus.

I should be foolin round and havin fun,


Slippin around the town with anyone,
Takin some pleasure in the things I do,
Instead of sighin, lyin, cryin, dyin fer you.
Late at night I have been heard to say,
"Why does she look at me that way?
Just one kiss and I could be true,
Instead of sighin, lyin, cryin, dyin fer you.
I should be steppin out in my cowboy hat,
Singin of moon in June, just an old tom cat,
Hootin loud and clear with a reckless crew
Instead of sighin, lyin, cryin, dyin fer you.
Late at night.
I should be fancy free, crazy and wild,
Dancin above this love in a two-step style.
Watchin the sun come up on the avenue,
Instead of sighin, lyin, cryin, dyin fer you.
Late at night.

11

BUDDY WONT YOU GIVE ME A RIDE

A song about returning from the desert. The gang oughta sing the chorus.

My truck is rustin in the dust out on the desert dry,


I been diggin out all day beneath the western sky.
A few more miles to Carson where I can drink a beer,
Thats the Promised Land but Im in the sand out here.
Jackrabbits and the coyotes all seem to know my name,
I changed it back in 99, I can change it once again.
My boss thinks Im a loser, my gal thinks Im a bum,
I just broke my shovel, guess Ill use my thumb.
Buddy wont you give me a ride,
Buddy wont you give me a ride.
Theres a cold one up ahead, dont you leave me here fer dead,
Buddy wont you give me a ride.
I headed for the sagebrush bound to be alone,
Where cars are far-between and the breezes seem to moan.
Tellin me to turn off on that dusty road,
And suddenly Im slippin down into this hole.
Devils cross the flat keep callin me to dance,
That hawk circling overhead aint lookin for romance.
I dream Im squeezin Sally down at the corner bar,
This lager taste like alkali, wait I see a car.
Buddy wont you give me.
The tie rod is busted and the battery wont crank,
Id like to help mankind, maybe rob a bank.
Drop me at the corner by the coffee shop,
Ill tell em all the tale how somebody stopped.
Somewhere theres blue skies a hundred miles wide,
An old box canyon where an outlaw can hide.
Heres five for gas and thanks for what you done,
Someday Ill git this dern truck to run.
Buddy wont you give me.

12

CAUSE THE BRIGHT LIGHTS TURN A BUCKAROO


BLUE
After living out there for years, I moved into the Citya sobering experience.

Used to be a cowpoke a ridin around,


Out where nuttin but the coyotes sound.
Now I'm driftin like the hobos do,
Cause the bright lights turn a buckaroo blue.
Midnight, star bright don't seem to show.
Reno town, foolin round, big neon glow.
High desert moon, rodeo queen,
Fill my cup with a western dream.
Tell me stories, make em wild and true,
Cuz the bright lights turn a buckaroo blue.
Sittin on a stoop and the car horns blow,
Stop sign's red and the gamblers slow,
I'm lookin for that pebble in my shoe,
Cuz the bright lights turn a buckaroo blue.
Midnight.
Had me a shack in cottonwood shade,
Jackrabbit dancin as the sunset fades.
Now I'm workin at a job that's new,
Cause the bright lights turn a buckaroo blue.
Midnight.
One armed bandit, shakin my right,
Jukebox, whiskey and a two-bit fight.
Get me goin, call the jailhouse crew,
Cuz the bright lights turn a buckaroo blue.
Midnight.

13

HONEY DONT YOU MARRY A RAILROAD MAN

I played the Wabuska Depot a couple times before the state agent shut down the music.
The first gal to drive the train in 60 years, Crystal was planning to get married on the train.
The gang oughta sing the chorus and the last line of each verse. Make up some new verses
and send them to me.


Honey dont you marry a railroad man,
Honey dont you marry a railroad man.
Hes headin on down the track, he aint never comin back,
Honey dont you marry a railroad man.
Hes just a five-cent rounder in a two-dollar town,
Hes just a five-cent rounder in a two-dollar town.
He loves to roll those dice, he can roll em once or twice,
Honey dont you marry a railroad man.
Honey dont you marry.
On that one eyed rattler crossin the mountain side,
On that one eyed rattler crossin the mountain side.
In the wind and rain, hes ridin that western train,
Honey dont you marry a railroad man
Honey dont you marry.
Sleepin in the graveyard all night long,
Sleepin in the graveyard all night long.
He hit the saloon now hes howlin at the moon,
Honey dont you marry a railroad man.
Honey dont you marry.

14

LET IT GO
Goin out there, far from the bankers and the legal guns, one can dream of bein free. Some
of the gang oughta sing the chorus. A separate part of the gang oughta sing the response:
Let it go! Both groups oughta sing the last line of the chorus.


Oh, the banksters got the stimulus,
They just aint got enough for us.
Drop my dollar in the slot machine,
Thats the trickle down, you know what I mean.
You gotta let it go, (let it go!)
You gotta let it go, (let it go!)
I like money but you just got to let it go.
You steal a dollar and we throw you in jail,
You take a trillion and we go your bail.
Then its oh my gosh weve gone in debt,
And some bums pocket we aint picked yet.
You gotta.
Jesus said you oughta help the poor,
The rich man up and locks his door.
Turns out the light, sittin in the dark,
Shoot somebody when the dog starts to bark.
You gotta.
You can buy a politician cheaper than a car,
Hell take you for a ride an you wont go far.
Send your nickel far overseas,
Got good hair, watch him squeeze the please.
You gotta.

15

L-U-V SPELLS LOVE

I was holed up in the Pahranagat Valley for two weeks composing a puppet show. This
sentimental favorite has endured. Sing the chorus and L-U-V spells love in the verse.

I didn't have a chance cuz it took me by surprise,


Like a buckin mule, hit me right between the eyes.
Imagine my dismay, it wouldn't go away,
L-U-V spells love.
I tried to fight it off with my two bare hands,
We was whompin' and a stompin' all across the land.
I gave a mighty lick but the label sticks,
L-U-V spells love.
L's for the lily-livered way that I feel,
U's for unusual or maybe unreal.
V is for vitamins, vote, violet and veal,
L-U-V spells love.
I'm walkin talkin proof of the power in hope,
Cause my eenie-meenie mys just turn out nope.
I keep pluckin' flowers and singin' out sour,
L-U-V spells love.
Someone call the doctor and get me in soon,
I'm a seein' stars and I can't find the moon.
Someone hid the clues, someone check the fuse,
L-U-V spells love.
L's for the lily-livered.
You can't learn it in school or out of a book,
It's a dud when there's mud in your babblin' brook.
Take the test and cram, write your Uncle Sam,
L-U-V spells love.
I can see the sun shine bright for me,
Gonna quit work an live wild and free.
Peel me a grape, there's no escape,
L-U-V spell love.
L's for the lily-livered.

16

HAVE YOU SEEN THE DAMSEL WHO STOLE MY


CHECKERED PANTS
Have you seen the damsel who stole my checkered pants?
She traveled to Nevada all the way from Paris France.
I gave her twenty dollars and I never acted rough.
She stole my checked pants and left me standin in the buff.

Standin in the buff, standin in the buff,


She stole my checkered pants and left me standing in the buff.
I met her over whiskey in a friendly sort of place.
She wore a red carnation and a smile upon her face.
If I hadn't a seen her twinkle I mighta turned right then,
And saved my checkered pants from all the dreadful ways of men.
The dreadful ways of men, the dreadful ways of me,
And saved my checkered pants from all the dreadful ways of men.

Next morn as I walked down the street, I's feelin quite a breeze.
And everyone I happened on remarked upon my knees.
When my mind began to clear my nose began to run.
There's ears to hold my hat up but no holster for my gun.
Holster fer ma gun, holster fer ma gun,
There's ears to hold my hat up but no holster fer ma gun.

She's stolen pants in Mexico and on the northern coast.


So, when you go a sportin tie yer britches to the post.
And if you see a gal in red suspenders, well, they're mine.
Oh, the dollars in those checkered pants should total forty nine.
Total forty nine, total forty nine,
The dollars in those checkered pants should total forty nine.

17

AT THE COWCAMP JAMBOREE


I tire of sappy songs about sunsets, babies, beautiful horses and the bucket in the well. For
me, a good western song is about the food.

Well, I happened to stand on the corner today,


When I heard a song on the radio play,
Broken hearted, singin the blues,
Much too sad for a buckaroo.
Give me ropin and ridin and tossin big bales,
To horses you hear of in all of our tales.
I'm leavin town, you'll find me down,
At the Cowcamp Jamboree.
There'll be dust a risin and folks collidin
Cowboys singin in harmony.
Down the middle to that ragtime fiddle,
Hear my yo-dee-oh-lay-dee-hee.
You'll find me laggin round that old chuck wagon,
Bowl of beans sittin on my knee.
When day is done, I'm havin fun,
At the Cowcamp Jamboree.
Take me back to that shack with my good time pals,
Campfire singin round that ole corral.
Ragtime fiddle and a shoe string bow,
Washtub bass and that old banjo.
Cowpokes a pickin on their old guitars,
Night wind risin from the western stars,
Blue desert moon, everyone's in tune,
At the Cowcamp Jamboree.
Therell be.
When I get there you bet there'll be dancin round,
Eatin mountain oysters and whoopin up a sound.
Two steppin my cotton eyed cutie,
Purty little pigtailed bullridin beauty.
Hey Mr. D.J. play me a song,
Coyotes callin all night long,
Way out west, land that I love best,
At the Cowcamp Jamboree.
Therell be.

18

SHE AINT CALLED SADIE NO MORE


Ive stood next to one of these gals on Fremont Street-- her great bit smile and her half-inch
thick flesh-colored body armor. The sheriff aint happy, still she doesnt go away.

Shell drive your car, down to the bar, tell you who you are,
When you shout whoopee (whoopee!).
Shell leave you thin, drinkin cemetery gin.
Wearin diamonds and pearls, that ten-foot showgirl,
She aint called Sadie no more.
Shes got the touch, youll need your crutch, she knows too much,
She runs the store.
Knew her way back when, had to see her again,
Wearin diamonds and pearls, that ten-foot showgirl,
She aint called Sadie no more
In a big hotel, ringin the bell last night,
Entranced by her dance it was such romance, I shot out the light.
She winked her eye, I started to cry,
Wearin diamonds and pearls, that ten-foot showgirl,
She aint called Sadie no more.
I knew her brother Bob, we liked to ramble and rob, eat corn on the cob,
Sleep on my floor.
They was just plain folks, it was all a hoax
Wearin diamonds and pearls, that ten-foot showgirl,
She aint called Sadie no more
In a big hotel, ringin the bell.
I wrote her a note, love your rhinestone coat, Im slidin the slope,
Since the time we tore.
Oh ancient age, now on the stage,
Wearin diamonds and pearls, that ten-foot showgirl,
She aint called Sadie no more
In a big hotel, ringin the bell.
So if youre broken, give her a token, few words spoken,
Click yer pics by the score.
Tell the troubled cop, shell never stop,
Wearin diamonds and pearls, that ten-foot showgirl,
She aint called Sadie no more.
In a big hotel, ringin the bell.

19

THE COWTOWN BALL

For about 25 years I played fiddle at local dances. I never ceased to marvel at the freedom
from instruction that blesses folks living in the outskirts.

Last Saturday night all them rounders squared up,


Those barn door belles was a cuttin up a rug.
Long tall Lucy said, "don't you wanna go?
Kick them cow pies off of your toes".
Let me be a cowpoke out on the western range,
Chase them dogies cause my heart is strange,
Pillow my head where the coyotes call,
Leave them sweet peas at the Cowtown Ball.
Satin dresses and bales from the barn,
Every time I turned somebody grabbed my arm,
Lost my right and left, nearly lost my mind,
Had more partners than I ever wanna find.
Let me.
Kamikaze polka and shuffle cross the floor,
Mountain two-step and hollerin for more.
Thats when Lucy met ole Handsome Jack,
He swung her cross the floor and he never brung her back.
Let me.

20

WHEN ITS RAGTIME IN NEVADA

In the mid-50s, Ragtime Bob brought the honky-tonk piano craze to Virginia City. My pa and
his father before him were crooners. Nevada ought to advertise what people come for.

Feelin happy, my old pappy,


Used to set me on his knee.
From his heart hed impart,
How the world ought to be.
As hed croon the whole saloon,
Would rise and sing along,
The joints a throbbin while Im a bobbin,
And pappy sang this song.
When its ragtime in Nevada pour me another shot,
Bikers, bums and cowpokes, hippies smokin pot.
Hookers, hustlers, UFOs, that sweet thing on a tear,
When its ragtime in Nevada Ill be there.
Rattlesnakin, syncopatin,
Tough guys check their guns,
Boardwalk floozies shout out woozy,
Pappy, make it fun!
All night on the upright,
Boys he held me near,
Fingers snappin, toes a tappin,
Hed whisper in my ear.
When its ragtime in Nevada.
Now Pappys left and Im bereft,
Still I play on the old banjo,
Sage and pine, beer and wine,
Everywhere I go.
Desert moon, one more tune,
Gonna make it swing,
These rhinestones gonna moan:
Shake that thing!
When its ragtime in Nevada.

21

THE V&TS BACK IN TOWN AGAIN

I played this at the ceremony opening one of our local V&T railroads. I rode in the
Governors car while he stood on the back platform waving to the wild horses. I sat down
next to his body guard and asked him if he liked the banjo. He gave me a look.

From Virginia on the hill,


Down to Carson, what a thrill,
The V&Ts back in town again.
Hear that whistle, smell that smoke,
Haulin all the finest folk,
The V&Ts back in town again.
The V&Ts back in town again.
They tore her down but they brought her round,
Im tellin ya friend.
Park your Chevy, park your Ford,
Hear that conductor all aboard!
The V&Ts back in town again.
Little kids with lollypops,
Buckaroos who tip their tops.
The V&Ts back in town again.
Fancy gamblers rollin dice,
Lovely ladies oh so nice,
The V&Ts back in town again.
The V&Ts back in town.
Round the bend, slap my knee,
In the tunnel shout, whoopee!
The V&Ts back in town again.
Hear those wheels clickety-clack,
I aint never comin back,
The V&Ts back in town again.
The V&Ts back in town.

22

CARSON CITY SERENADE

Not only did I have to write this song, I had to declare it Carson Citys unofficial western
song. Pogonip is frozen fog.

In the shadow of sage and pine by that silver dome flag flyin,
I hear that train whistle sighin,
Carson City serenade.
Where Chinese laid the rails and Nevada tells her tales,
I dream of long square nails,
Carson City serenade.
By an old house in the shade of cottonwood where fences fade,
Tahoe blows down the glade,
Carson City serenade.
Where the western desert starts and the highways meet to part,
I take the bluebird to my heart,
Carson City serenade.
As gas lamps light the night, on the hill our C shines bright,
And these wild words I write,
Carson City serenade.
Like a pioneer I talk, to ghosts on wayward walks,
Of pogonip on trees and rocks,
Carson City serenade.
By an old house.
Ten million cars whiz by and never note that border sky,
Or the zephyrs lonesome cry,
Carson City serenade.
Then the big clock sings a song, Cactus Jack waves along,
Every tumbleweed belongs,
Carson City serenade.
By an old house.

23

CUZ HER MAMA WAS THERE THAT NIGHT

The gang can sing the line, Cuz her mama was there that night, each time it occurs in the
verse. Then, they can sing the chorus.

Some gals go lookin with an uncle or cousin,


Gonna talk about Mable never got no lovin,
Cause her Mama was there that night.
Big man come over, Mable started to giggle,
Put his arms around her Mable started to wiggle,
Cuz her Mama was there that night.
Cuz her Mama was there that night,
Mable couldnt do nothing right,
Mama kept a cryin Heidy High,
Blow him kisses and bake him pie,
Cuz her Mama was there that night.
Well, he asked her to dance and Mable said she would,
And when he held her close her Mama said, thats good,
Cause her Mama was there that night.
But she bit her tongue and swallowed her gum,
Stepped on his foot and broke his thumb,
Cuz her Mama was there that night.
Cuz her mama.
Well the moral of the story is youre safe from trouble,
And youll always be single if you go out double,
And your mama is there that night.
Cause he drove em home and mama sat in back,
And she had em all singin, Hit The Road Jack!
Cuz her mama was there that night.
Cuz her mama.

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DONT GO DANCIN SPORTIN YOUR SPURS


Teaching your kids to yodel will shorten those car rides considerably.

You got your ten-gallon hat,


Got your pointy pointy boots,
Got your fringy jacket,
Got your rooty toot-toot.
Got your line about Texas,
But I wanna tell you sir,
Don't go dancin sportin your spurs.
Don't go dancin sportin your spurs,
That ringle jingle jangle ain't my kind of words.
Wanna get close, make the cowgirls purr,
Don't go dancin sportin your spurs.
(Yodel!)
You got your four-wheel truck,
You got your gun up on the rack,
You got your silver buckle,
Got your tools in back.
Got your six pack partner,
Easy on the curves,
Don't go dancin sportin your spurs.
Don't go dancin.
You got your big bay horse,
You got your saddle in the barn
You got that old lariat,
You got me hangin on your arm.
Got your yippee-oh-de-lay-dee-ay,
Save it for the herd,
Don't go dancin sportin your spurs.
Don't go dancin.

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ON THE EXTRATERRESTRIAL HIGHWAY

A good punk rock song, just add an accordion. As a kid, I watched sci-fi on channel 13 after
school. The gang can sing the chorus.

On the Extraterrestial Highway,


We were drivin along in my Ford,
When I saw a light from skyway,
Shining in the eyes of my adored.
Could it be some new family casino,
Or an alien from deep outer space,
Perhaps the Department of Energy,
Disposing of nuclear waste.
Will they put us in a sequel to The Misfits,
Are they looking for fans of the King,
Perhaps they are hiring extras,
Left over from filming The Thing.
Will they put us in a twelve-step program,
For lovers out on a lark?
If they give us a ride where can we hide,
Will my sweetheart glow in the dark?
On the Extraterrestial Highway,
They stopped me for going to fast.
I said I was doing it my way,
Cause nothin in this life is gonna last.
I just wanna be radioactive,
I just wanna wear diamonds and gold,
Drinkin beer in a bar on some exploding star,
Where love can not grow cold.
Will they put us.
On the Extraterrestial Highway,
I put my foot through the floor.
And got stopped by a cop, oh he got me to hop,
But he wanted to see more.
I just showed him my secret decoder,
I just pointed at the Milky Way,
I grabbed my girl, we set to whirl,
And rode off on a ray.
Will they put us.

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THOSE WILD WESTERN WOMEN

A song about economic development in the silver state. The gang can sing the chorus.

Grandpa ran a dude ranch, ridin on a horse,


Livin off them women out to get divorced.
Way out in Reno,
Where they party all the time,
And them wild western women,
Give you a nickle for a dime.
Grandma rode the rodeo, goin town to town,
Lookin for some cattleman to lay that dollar down.
Way out in Reno....
They met at the casino, spinnin that roulette,
He said, I like your boots and she replied, you bet!
Way out in Reno....
They went out honky tonkin to a cowbilly band,
Twangin boogie woogie on a one night stand.
Way out in Reno....
They hitched up at the chapel and the cowpokes came to sing,
Grandpa swam the Truckee and he fished her out a ring.
Way out in Reno....
She liked to do the two step, rockin to and fro,
Scratchin like a chicken, kickin up her toe.
Way out in Reno....
He liked to drink his whiskey up in the mountain air,
Talkin to the coyote and sleepin with the bear.
Way out in Reno....
Theyre buried back of the barn and written on the stone,
Biscuits in your saddle pack, youll never be alone.
Way out in Reno....

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COUSIN JACK
Prior to 1919, the lore of the far West celebrated not the cowboy but the miner. Mining lore
often feature Cousin Jack.

Back in the good old days the miner had a plan,


To help the mine boss find another man.
He said Ive got a Cousin Jack and I know him well,
He can run a steam drill, oh wont you tell.

Cousin Jack, Cousin Jack, Cousin Jack,


Back in the good old days.
Cousin Jack lived in Cornwall and so he boarded ship,
Off to Californie he took the sailin trip.
Out on the ocean, the wind it gave way,
He grabbed a pair of oars and rowed fer ninety days.
Cousin Jack.
High on the hillside he went down in the ground,
Jack grabbed a steam drill and it began to pound.
He drilled a hundred miles then he stopped for lunch,
He ate a couple pasties, those he liked a bunch.
Cousin Jack.
Cousin Jack met his sweetheart, name of Isabill,
She played the zither banjo an hollered on the hill.
She didnt want his silver, didnt want his gold,
But boy she cut a rug, cryin, Jack, grab a hold!
Cousin Jack.
Cousin Jack he bought a mule, Sadie was her name,
Ramblin the desert and the mountain range.
He hit a lucky strike an sold it, five bucks,
And said, I gotta ramble and trust to my luck.
Cousin Jack.
Last time I saw Cousin Jack, hes wanderin the clouds,
Rattlesnake hatband, singin way out loud.
Songs from Cornwall, songs of livin free,
Far from the bankers, far from you and me.
Cousin Jack.

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GIVE ME BACK NEVADAS MOON


Down in the great big city, people rushin by,
Everybody in hurry, and I dont know why.
There aint nothin for me, Im here but I could die,
And every night when I walk out, I look up and cry.
Give me back Nevadas moon, up in a western sky.
I wanna hear those coyotes croon, feel the wind rushin by.
I wanna smell the sagebrush, after the rain fall.
Give me back Nevadas moon, and Ill be happy after all.
Back home I had a sweetheart and boys I loved her true,
But she only wanted money so its money now that I do.
She had some other fellers baby so now I play the game,
Gals got up in rhinestones, everyone the same.
Give me back
Someday when Im sick and dyin, dont you worry bout me,
Just send me some old pickup truck, a driver fast and free.
Take me down some desert road, far from these walls of sin,
So I can tell St. Peter as I come roarin in.
Give me back

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STRANGER, WALK THAT WILD DREAM


When we gather to sing around the campfire, we get to have a moment. And then we part.

See the moon rise oer the hill,


Who needs that whiskey still,
Well be ridin on that beam.
By a campfire burnin bright,
Sing yer troubles to the light,
Stranger, walk that wild dream.
Walk that wild dream, walk that wild dream,
Stranger, walk that wild dream.
Those pioneers took this trail,
Hobos who rode the rail,
Far from mankinds moneyed scheme.
As their blue stars shine above,
Well strike a tune fer love,
Stranger, walk that wild dream.
Walk that wild dream.
In a ghost saloon, lost and loud,
Ill recall this gentle crowd,
Smoke always finds itself a stream.
Our old songsll sweep the floor,
With dancin girls Ill weep no more,
Stranger, walk that wild dream.
Walk that wild dream.
Comes the mornin, no partin long,
Flapjacks and coffee strong,
Boil it up an I dont need no cream.
Im headin down that desert road,
You have helped to share my load,
Stranger, walk that wild dream.
Walk that wild dream.
Hear the clouds call across the flat,
Go and roam, you desert rat,
Out where the winds at midnight scream.
Where rivers run beneath the ground,
And memories of home abound,
Stranger, walk that wild dream.
Walk that wild dream.

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www.nevadamusic.com

RHYMES FROM THE SILVER STATE


unacceptable lyrics old and new
THAT COWBOY CAF
original campfire sing-a-longs
COYOTE AND HIS FRIENDS
songs to sing with kids
TRUCK TRAIN THROUGH THE SAND
the 1919 transcontinental motor convoy
as it came through Carson City
DREAMING UP NEVADA
the story of William Ormsby
PROFIT, PLOTS & LYNCHING
the creation of Nevada Territory
THE MINERS FAREWELL
on the trail of gold rush song and dance

THE CELTIC HARP AT STONEHENGE


the structure of ancient British and Celtic learning

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