"I Will Tell You My Troubles" गीत

I will tell you of my troubles, my ups and downs through life,
And I'll tell to you a story rather strange;
I will tell you of my boardinghouse, a structure built on wheels,
And it's drawn by four black horses 'cross the plains.

Oh, the wheels are made of black oak, the running gear white oak,
And the bed is made to haul our bedding, chuck, and grain;
In the rear there is a chuck box where the cowboys get their chuck,
It's the XIT chuck wagon on the plains.

As the old chuck wagon rolls on, you can hear the cowboys yell,
You can hear the dogies bawling all around;
You can see the bronco pitching, trying to shake his rider off,
But they seldom ever put one on the ground.

You can hear the howling coyotes, the barking prairie dog,
You can see the bronco buster a-holding to his rein;
You can see a thousand white-face cattle grazing on the grass
Round the XIT chuck wagon on the plains.

Oh, my life1s a poor cow puncher's and I daily ride the range,
While the iron's getting hot I ride my wild bronco;
When the rounding of the yearlings' and the branding does begin,
From my roping horse I throw my long lasso.

Oh, the boys go dog the yearlings to burn the XIT,
While on guard the boys are holding to the reins;
When our day's work it is ended then we all go into camp
To the XIT chuck wagon on the plains.

When the cook gets chuck all ready, and he hollers,
"Here it is," To the chuck box there's a rush by all the crew;
When our tins and cups are loaded with hot coffee, bread, and steak,
Then we all sit down upon the grass to chew.

Oh, the beefsteak's brown and tender, the bread is sour dough,
And the coffee's strong enough to float a barge of grain;
As we chew our floury greeting there's a loco weed in bloom,
Round the XIT chuck wagon on the plains.

Oh, my buddies are cow punchers and their jewels are forty-fives,
We're there with smoking rifles when trouble comes;
The only amusement is High Five and Seven Up,
And the music is the rattle of the spurs.

Oh, our beds are made of tarpaulin, our blankets are Navajo,
And we snap the tarp to keep out wind and rain;
When the boys are all through jesting then we all lie down to sleep,
Round the XIT chuck wagon on the plains.