Ode To The Cowboy Cook


Gather 'round this pot o' grub and hear a tale of mine,
I'll tell you '
bout the ol' camp cook and of his place in time.
Now many folk have plied the trade of slingin' beef and beans.
On the ranch, along the trail, throughout the western scene.

Ol' Cookie, he's done his share on cattle drives and trails,
Fought injuns, fought outlaws, made it through the same travails
As any cowhand on the drive from Bozeman to the Rio Grande
As handy with a shootin' iron as with a cast iron pan.

Now everybody wants to be top hand, no one wants to cook,
They'll rise up early to jingle in horses, not give the stove a second look.
Unless there's no coffee in the pot, or bacon fryin' in the pan,
Then they'll look around to see if there's anyone else that can.

The ladies get all dreamy-eyed when they see them boots and spurs,
Hopin' that the wrangler on a horse can be roped and soon made hers.
No thought it given to the cook unless it's eatin' time,
When their belly starts to growl and they hear that ol' bell chime.

I know the cowboy's job is tough, his work it can be hard,
And he deserves a round from all of us for being a good pard.
So thank the wrangler all you want, he's done his best for you,
but don't forget to KISS THE COOK cuz he deserves one, too.

The Last Cowboy


I hate to see the last cowboy gone,
It'll be an awful shame
To finish up the last round-up,
To
seethelastbronctamed.

For
thebreedisgittin' fewer
Andfewer everyday.
And when it's gonna come to pass
For now I just can't say.

But when that last cowboy's gone
There's one thing that is true.
We'll have lost a part of history
And a part of me and you.