Strawberry Roan

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The Strawberry Roan

[Horse whinnies and then farts. Someone yells "Whoa!"]

I was hanging 'round town
In a house of ill fame
Laying up with a twister
Of hustling dame

When a hop-headed pimp
With his nose full of coke
Beat me out of the girl
And left me stone-broke

When a stranger walked in
Said he, "Say, my lad
Are you any good riding
Horses that's bad?"

Said I, "You damn right
That's one thing I can do
I'm a second rate pimp
But a good buckaroo.

"Bring on your bad horses
I never saw one
That could set to guessing
Or bother me none."

Said he, "Guess again
There's one horse that I own
You might have heard of him
The strawberry roan."

Well I guess we've all hear of that
of that ball bearing stud
He had the fessudie [?]
And glanders and crud.

He's the worst fucking bronco
That has ever been foaled
He's never been road
And he's twenty years old.O, that strawberry roan
How many colts has he thrown?
He's got gonorrhea and cankers and syph
He strictured with clap
But his cock is still stiff
That renegade strawberry roan

Well, the upshot of it was
That I found myself hired
To snap out some colts
That great stud had sired.

They were knot-head cayuse's
Just like their Dad
With most of them roans
But all of them bad.

With their feet in my pockets
Those bastards would fight
Till my ass drug my tracks out
Way before night

My balls in my boots
And my mouth full of dung
My ears were all scratch
Where I got my spurs hung

Then the boss came in
He said, "That's enough
That strawberry roan's colts
Are too God damned tough

"I'm damn sick and tired
Of seeing you taking them falls
Rope that wind-milling stud
And we'll cut out his balls."

O, that strawberry roan
We went out to unbend his bone
We built a big loop
And went in the corral
We roped his front feet
He farted and fell
We flattened that strawberry roan

Well, the boss held his head
While I hog-tied his legs
I reached for my jack-knife
And went for his eggs

When I opened his bag
Why, he let out a moan
And he squealed like a pig
When I cut out that stone

But all I could locate
Was one of his nuts
The other was hidden
Some place in his guts

So I rolled up my sleeve
And swimming in blood
I felt for the seed
In the guts of that stud.

I thought that I found it
I felt something pass
But its only a turd
On the way to his ass

Just then I heard one of them
Blood curdling squalls
And I looked and the roan
Had the boss by the balls

Well, I stomped on his head
It was no use
He was just like a bulldog
He wouldn't let loose

So I untied his legs
And he got to his feet
But the boss's voice changed
And I knew he was beat.

O, that strawberry roan
We advise you to leave him alone
He's a knot-headed cayuse
With only one ball
But the boss is a eunuch
With no balls at all
Lay off of that strawberry roan.

[The sound of a fart. Someone yells "Whoa! You son of a bitch!" Horse makes "Awww, Horseshit.]

The above recording is from an anonymous non-labeled 78 record.  Here are photos of the labels from this 78. 

     

There are two other "Strawberry Roan" on 78s in my collection both of these are lacking the introductory and closing farting "You son of a bitch."

 

Here is the High Society label:

    
 

Here is the Party Platter label:

   
 

Here is a non-labeled version with typed text:

  


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