Tap
Well-known member
Here are the lyrics of a song perfomed by the Gillette Brothers from Crockett TX, and written by Jim Davis of Idaho. If you get a chance to see the Gillette Brothers, I recommend them. They also play the cow bones "pretty mean".
The Bogus Brown
The Cookie hammers on the pan and you snap wide awake,
the horse thats in your string today is sure to be a snake.
The wrangos got the cavy commin' you can hear the clanging bell,
and in that bunch of horses there's 1200 pounds of hell.
You swear if you live through this roundup, that you'll get a job in town.
The horse that you ride today, they call the bogus brown.
The beef steak's good at breakfast and the biscuits golden brown,
but thinking what you have to ride, you can hardly choke them down.
Shorty across the table says he wishes for daylight,
cause he sure likes to see it when that brown is on the fight.
Before you can answer Shorty's little jeer,
the boss says by daylight we'll be fifteen miles from here.
In the light of the coal lantern you walk to the corral,
and backed up in the corner is a brown horse you know too well.
You build a hole in your reata and snare the Bogus Brown,
hobble his legs together and cinch your saddle down.
There's rollers in his nose and he's really talking war,
you know that he's not lying cause you've been there before.
The other boys are mounted and kind-of-circle 'round,
they'er there to get your saddle back if "Old Bogus" beds you down.
It's off with the hobbles, you know the time has come,
your heart is pounding in your ears like Yankee Doodle's drum.
Old Brownies' all humpted up until the skirts don't touch his back,
throw the McCarty over his neck and gather in the slack.
When you step up on him,...he doesn't move around,
just humps up and shivers like he's frozen to the ground.
But, when you untrack him a squeal rips the air,
he jerks the McCarty through your hands till you smell the burning hair.
You don't have to see to know that he's headed for the moon,
you hunt the cinch with both your spurs and find it none to soon.
The boys can't see your cheatin' if they choose to call it that,
but you know that you can't spur him or fan him with your hat.
The Bogus Brown is bawling and tearing up the dirt,
each jumps a little higher and you really start to hurt.
You would like to bail off and give the Brown the fight,
but you can't see a place to land by the morning starsd faint light.
The dogs all get into a fight they sure do have a row.
but you don't even hear them cause you're mighty busy now.
By now you've lost both stirrups and you're plumb out of air,
but you're still up above him, though you can't tell just where.
At last he brings his head up and starts to settle down,
when he looses he'll admit it, that dirty bogus brown.
When the morning star has faded and you can see that brown and sweaty hide,
no one has to tell you that you really earned this ride.
That evening, when you're crowding cattle to the ground,
you know for sure that cowboy life beats any life in town.
Then a thought comes in your head that brings you to a frown.
You remember when his turn comes up you gotta ride the Bogus Brown.
-Jim Davis-
Riggins, Idaho
The Bogus Brown
The Cookie hammers on the pan and you snap wide awake,
the horse thats in your string today is sure to be a snake.
The wrangos got the cavy commin' you can hear the clanging bell,
and in that bunch of horses there's 1200 pounds of hell.
You swear if you live through this roundup, that you'll get a job in town.
The horse that you ride today, they call the bogus brown.
The beef steak's good at breakfast and the biscuits golden brown,
but thinking what you have to ride, you can hardly choke them down.
Shorty across the table says he wishes for daylight,
cause he sure likes to see it when that brown is on the fight.
Before you can answer Shorty's little jeer,
the boss says by daylight we'll be fifteen miles from here.
In the light of the coal lantern you walk to the corral,
and backed up in the corner is a brown horse you know too well.
You build a hole in your reata and snare the Bogus Brown,
hobble his legs together and cinch your saddle down.
There's rollers in his nose and he's really talking war,
you know that he's not lying cause you've been there before.
The other boys are mounted and kind-of-circle 'round,
they'er there to get your saddle back if "Old Bogus" beds you down.
It's off with the hobbles, you know the time has come,
your heart is pounding in your ears like Yankee Doodle's drum.
Old Brownies' all humpted up until the skirts don't touch his back,
throw the McCarty over his neck and gather in the slack.
When you step up on him,...he doesn't move around,
just humps up and shivers like he's frozen to the ground.
But, when you untrack him a squeal rips the air,
he jerks the McCarty through your hands till you smell the burning hair.
You don't have to see to know that he's headed for the moon,
you hunt the cinch with both your spurs and find it none to soon.
The boys can't see your cheatin' if they choose to call it that,
but you know that you can't spur him or fan him with your hat.
The Bogus Brown is bawling and tearing up the dirt,
each jumps a little higher and you really start to hurt.
You would like to bail off and give the Brown the fight,
but you can't see a place to land by the morning starsd faint light.
The dogs all get into a fight they sure do have a row.
but you don't even hear them cause you're mighty busy now.
By now you've lost both stirrups and you're plumb out of air,
but you're still up above him, though you can't tell just where.
At last he brings his head up and starts to settle down,
when he looses he'll admit it, that dirty bogus brown.
When the morning star has faded and you can see that brown and sweaty hide,
no one has to tell you that you really earned this ride.
That evening, when you're crowding cattle to the ground,
you know for sure that cowboy life beats any life in town.
Then a thought comes in your head that brings you to a frown.
You remember when his turn comes up you gotta ride the Bogus Brown.
-Jim Davis-
Riggins, Idaho
:wink: