Tonart: C major•
Verse 1
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C
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Now about this here Thanksgiving,
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there is two opposing views.
One helped by Pop McIntyre
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and one helped by Smokey Hughes.
How these two old cowpokes
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can debate the pros and cons produces in
the bunkhouse many verbal marathons.
said Smokey,
for whatever I've had since first I
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wrangled horses as a rusty knuckle lad.
I broke my share of bronco,
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and I've punched a heap of cow,
and I've earned my own dang blessings
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from the sweat of my own brow,
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and why I should be thankful for what I duly earns just a lot of bosh and bunkum,
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boys, that I ain't never learned.
My friend says, Pop Sarcastic,
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you said your little piece
and proved you got a limber tongue
that's well -supplied with grease.
a peeler
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who is seldom ever thrown
to what good luck or blessing is your
There ain't no good luck to it,
Pop, said Smokey.
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I'm a man who ain't obliged
to nothin'
when I do the best I can.
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For when I earn my wages
snappin' out a bunch of colts,
it's me, myself,
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in person who's takin' all them jolts.
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D
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That's why I say Thanksgiving Day
to give some folks a good excuse
for a turkey bellyache.
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Pop McIntyre sucks his pipe
a thoughtful draw or two
then says, well, Smokey,
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I'll admit that your buckaroo
sets a steady saddle
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and ain't stingy with his sweat.
But maybe there's a thing or two
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Now, you mention ridin' broncos,
and I'll admit you're ridin' good
and set up in the saddle
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like a salty peeler should.
But for this you take all the credit,
D
and you claim you owe no thanks
for them buckarooster blessings of
the muscles in your shanks.
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At least you could be thankful,
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said Pop with a concludin' drawl,
that the good Lord split you up the middle,
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or you couldn't ride at all.
you
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