Bald Butte, Bald Butte so lofty and so high Carry me to Bald Butte Where the plains wrap round the sky You can dig a hole on Bald Butte when I die
Henry was born on Bald Butte A paint horse he did ride Well he roped him in Alberta Broke him on the Montana line Tore him a trail through the northwest countryside
Henry took to stealing Robbing on the CP Rail He got the devil on his shoulders And the law man on his tail You better ride, Henry ride You ain't got no friends to go your bail
Well he rode across the Grey Back camp Up in Cypress Hills They said they left the US nation On the day that Richmond fell They whistled Dixie and set him up a still
Henry woke the next morn Like a corpse from the grave Half blind and twice as haggard He took a cast iron to the brain They stole his horse and the rifle that shared his name
And he tracked them former Johnny Rebs Through the prairie and the trees Up old Castle Mountain Cross the river Wapiti Low and behold, what do you think he sees I see my paint I see my rifle that shares my name I see them men that done me wrong Lord, I'm gonna do them just the same
Henry grabbed his rifle Up off of the ground He kissed the ever-loving barrel And he shot them old boys down They hit the dirt, he revelled in the sound
Now he's back up in the saddle Back up on the top When he felt that southern slug Chew a hole right through his gut He thought he killed them all But he had not
That paint took off a running Through the water and the mud No earthly force in this whole world Could stop that 'Berta stud Henry sat there laughing up his blood
And he was singing Bald Butte, Bald Butte so lofty and so high Carry me to Bald Butte Where the plains wrap round the the sky You can dig a hole on Bald Butte when I dieTeksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
