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THE SIERRY PETES (KNOTS IN THE DEVIL'S TAIL) (Words: Gail Gardner - 1917 / Music: Bill Simon - 1919) Don Edwards - 2003 Also recorded by: Johnny Bencomo; Nevada Slim & Cimarron Sue; Rick Pickren. Away up high in the Sierry Petes Where the yeller pines grows tall Ole Sandy Bob an' Buster Jig Had a rodeer camp last fall Oh, they taken their hosses and runnin' irons And mabbe a dawg or two An' they 'lowed they'd brand all the long-yered calves That come within their view And any old doggie that flapped long yeres An' didn't bush up by day Got his long yeres whittled an' his old hide scorched In a most artistic way Now one fine day ole Sandy Bob He throwed his seago down "I'm sick of this cow-pyrography And I 'lows I'm a-goin' to town" So they saddles up an' hits 'em a lope Fer it warnt no sight of a ride And them was the days when a Buckeroo Could ile up his inside Oh, they starts her in at the Kaintucky Bar At the head of Whisky Row And they winds up down by the Depot House Some forty drinks below They then sets up and turns around And goes her the other way An' to tell you the Gawd-forsaken truth Them boys got stewed that day As they was a-ridin' back to camp A-packin' a pretty good load Who should they meet but the Devil himself A-prancin' down the road Sez he, "You ornery cowboy skunks You'd better hunt yer holes Fer I've come up from Hell's Rim Rock To gather in yer souls" Sez Sandy Bob, "Old Devil be damned We boys is kinda tight But you ain't a-goin' to gather no cowboy souls 'Thout you has some kind of a fight" So Sandy Bob punched a hole in his rope And he swang her straight and true He lapped it on to the Devil's horns An' he taken his dallies too Now Buster jig was a riata man With his gut-line coiled up neat So he shaken her out an' he built him a loop An' he lassed the Devil's hind feet Oh, they stretched him out an' they tailed him down While the irons was a-gettin hot They cropped and swaller-forked his yeres Then they branded him up a lot They pruned him up with a de-hornin' saw An' they knotted his tail fer a joke They then rid off and left him there Necked to a Black-Jack oak If you're ever up high in the Sierry Petes An' you hear one Hell of a wail You'll know it's that Devil a-bellerin' around About them knots in his tail (Contributed by - September 2007)

    


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