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(DON'T MAKE ME DO) WHAT I DID DOWN IN TEXAS (c) 2005 - G. Smith I rode into town from out on the prairie, The day was so hot, the sun was still high; I tied up my horse, and walked into the barroom, And ordered a beer, being dusty and dry. The folks in this town took advantage of strangers, Making off with my horse while I slaked my thirst. When I paid for my drink, and then found my horse missing, I stepped back inside and prepared for the worst. My spurs, they still jingled as I reached for my pistols, And I drew with a flourish, both ready to fire; I said, "I'll ask once - What's become of my pony?" And nobody challenged this tired cowboy's ire. The room remained quiet so I pulled back the hammers, And lowered a barrel to the barkeeper's head; Without even blinking, I spoke in a whisper, And everyone there heard the words that I said: "Don't make me do what I did down in Texas; It's a mem'ry that keeps me from sleeping at night. Don't make me do what I did down in Texas; I don't want to recall the results of that fight. No, don't make me do what I did down in Texas; The people down there never saw such a sight... Don't make me do what I did down in Texas; Just bring back my horse and make things all right." They set down a tall one on the counter before me, And I heard my horse being tied up back outside. I finished my drink, and took the barkeep out with me, Surveying the scene as I prepared to ride. "What did you do to those folks down in Texas?" The barkeeper asked me, fin'ly able to talk. I pulled back the reins and holstered my pistols, Looked him straight in the eyes, and said, "Pardner... I walked..."


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