A way out on the wind swept desert Where nature favours no man A buffalo found his brother Lying baked on the sun baked sand He said: My brother what ails you Has sickness made you this way His brother never said 'Cause his brother was dead He'd been dead since way last May
Big chief buffalo nickel was a mighty man in his day He never used a syckle To clear the bushes away He roamed around from tent to tent Heed everything in sight He loved his squaw, everyone he saw He loved a new one every night
A way out on the wind swept desert I heard a big indian moan I left my tent, 'cause I knew what it meant I swore I never more would roam It was dawn when I reached Saint Pete My legs were certainly sore I must have lost fifty pounds On that hot desert ground And I'd lose that many more
Big chief buffalo nickel was a mighty man in his day He never used a syckle To clear the bushes away He roamed around from tent to tent Heed everything in sight He loved his squaw, everyone he saw He loved a new one every nightTeksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
