Abeline

We just rode in to old Abeline town,
Drove a herd up the Chisholm Trail,
Got ‘em calmed down in the cattle pens,
And ready for the east-bound rail.

Me and the boys were struttin’ real tall,
Each one of us a man of means,
We’d got our pay for the long, long drive,
There was jingling in our jeans.

We were all feelin’ pretty randy and rowdy,
Every one of us about to go bust,
We headed on over to the Trail End Saloon,
For some liquid that would cut the dust.

We’d just got settled with our bellies to the bar,
When in walked a giant to be feared,
You just had the feelin’ when you gazed in his eyes,
That his heart was just as black as his beard.

He glared at the room with fire in his eyes,
As he spoke, the room cowered with fright,
“I’m Bushrod Brimstone, King of the World,
And boys, I’m here spoilin’ for a fight.

Better look out fellas, better step aside,
I’m feelin’ pretty ornery today,
And if any man wants to see the sun go down,
Then you oughta get outa my way.

I’m a hard freebooter and a dead straight shooter,
I don’t cotton to the weak and the meek,
Why the further up the river, the meaner they come,
And I am from the head of the creek.

I’m part alligator, part snappin’ turtle,
Part buffalo and grizzly bear,
I’m quicker than a chicken on a big June bug,
And I’ll knock a fellow way beyond repair.
Any man who’s thinkin’ he’s as hard as a nail,
I’m the hammer that’ll give the nail a pound,
If I’m feelin’ sorta soft and sweet when I’m done,
I’ll leave him broken up, not in the ground.”

Well, not a man there had the courage to object,
And not a man would look him in the eyes,
We all backed off and let him have his space,
We knew no one could whip a man that size.

Then he sto mped to the bar and grabbed up a jug,
And he polished off the bottle with a glug,
Then he picked up a barrel and drank the beer down,
He didn’t want to bother with a mug.

He said, “Wall now boys, would you look at the time,
I guess I better get along my way,
There’s a rule that I follow, if I’m ever later for supper,
Then it’s hell is what I’m gonna have to pay.

I got me a woman, she’s a purty little thing,
But she treats me awful rotten, like a slave,
And if ever I’m a couple minutes late for a meal,
Then tomorrow there will be another grave.”

He barged through the door and mounted his horse,
And he stormed his way through the streets of town,
The saloon was silent, we were shocked to the core,
It didn’t seem a proper time for sound.

By dawn next morning we were headed back south,
To the safety of our home in San Antone,
We huddled as a group for security’s sake,
‘Cause none of us would dare to be alone.

We made fast tracks as we headed on our way,
For we knew survival chances would be slim,
If we ever crossed paths with the Brimstone woman,
Who was tough as hell, and meaner than him.