A Word To Texas Jack
Texas Jack, you are amusin', great Lord Harry, how I laughed
When I seen your rig and saddle with its bulwarks fore-and-aft
Holy smoke! In such a saddle how the dickens can ya fall?
Why, I've seen a gal ride bareback with no bridle on at all!
How I'd like to see a bushman use yer fixins, Texas Jack
On the remnant of a saddle he can ride to hell and back
Why, I've heard a mother cheerin' when her kid went tossin' by
Ridin' bareback on a bucker that had murder in his eye
You may talk about your ridin' in the city, bold an' free
Talk o' ridin' in the city, Texas Jack, but where'd you'd be
When the stock horse snorts an' bunches all 'is quarters in a hump
And the saddle climbs a sapling, an' the horse-shoes split a stump?
No, before you teach the natives you must ride without a fall
Up a gum or down a gully nigh as steep as any wall
You must swim the roarin' Darling when the flood is at its height
Bearin' down the stock an' stations to the Great Australian Bight
You can't count the bulls an' bisons that you copped with your lassoo
But a stout old Myall bullock perhaps could learn you somethin' new
You had better make your will an' leave your papers neat an' trim
Before you make arrangements for the lassooin' of him
As you say you're death on Injuns! We've got somethin' in your line
If yer think your fightin's equal to the likes of Tommy Ryan
Take your carcass up to Queensland where the alligators chew
And the carpet-snake is handy with his tail for a lassoo
Ride across the hazy regins where the lonely emus wail
An' ye'll find the dark'll track yer while yer lookin' for his trail
He can track yer without stoppin' for a thousand miles or more
Come again, and he will show yer where yer spat the year before
But you'd best be mighty careful, you'll be sorry you came here
When you're skewered to the fragments of your saddle with a spear
When the boomerang is sailin' in the air, then heaven help ya!
It will cut yer head off goin', an' come back again and scalp ya!
Texas Jack, you are amusin', great Lord Harry, how I laughed
When I seen your rig and saddle with its bulwarks fore-an'-aft;
Holy smoke! In such a saddle how the dickens can ya fall?
Why, I've seen a gal ride bareback with no bridle on at all!
