Santa Fe
By: Randi Rawls
Well I was gittin’ kinda tired — rode the range all day;
Been pushin’ them dogies to Santa Fe.
My ole butt was tired – nearly worn clean out;
And I was needin’ a drink – one tall and stout!
So when we made camp and were all settled in;
I grubbed me some beans, and a good swig of gin.
The coffee was black, and strong enough to walk,
But I was so tired – too tired to talk.
So I doused the fire with my bent coffee tin;
Spread out my roll, and commenced to turn in.
Them cows were a snoozin’ as Cookie harped a note;
And I too drifted off ‘neath my old ragged coat.
When mornin’ rolled ‘round, and the sun came to rise;
I filled up on coffee and fried apple pies.
Cookie hitched the team, while I saddled Ole Hap –
All freelin’ refreshed after our evenin’ nap.
Ole Hap and me been a pair since birth;
And all the gold in Californy couldn’t afford his worth.
He was a mealy colored sorrel that my Pappy give to me;
With white splotches of paint on his rump and front knee.
He could bear down on a stray, and bring him back to the herd;
With just a nudge from my toe and a soft-spoken word.
So Hap and me set out for yet another day;
Not knowin’ the events that would venture our way.
But I was calm in myself, and kinda satisfied knowin’
That I had Ole Hap wherever I was goin’.
We finished that long drive – “Santa Fe or Bust!”
With two pounds of coffee and twenty pounds of dust.
Them other cowpokes hit the tub and then town;
But me and Ole Hap were content to settle down.
Guess I’m gettin’ old – done raised enough hell;
No fun wakin’ up with a hangover in jail.
I reckon me and Ole Hap will retire one day;
When we’ve pushed that lost dogie… to Santa Fe.
