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