of my soul locked within my troubled mind Is a love I can't forget cause she's just one of a kind Just a plain old fashioned girl the kind a man don
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away and at last one day came a squaw with a story strange Of a long-deserted line of traps way back of the Bighorn range Of a little hut by the great
burned in a most peculiar way In a buckskin shirt that was glazed with dirt he sat and I saw him sway Then his lips went in in a kind of a grin and he
New Mexico Swift as an antelope and black as a crow A star on his forehead as white as the snow His hair like a lady was glossy and fine He was restless
scrabbled and mucked like a slave Was it famine or scurvy I fought it I hurled my youth into a grave I wanted the gold and I got it came out with a fortune
the Squid Jiggin' Ground. Holy Smoke! What a scuffle! All hands are excited, It's a wonder to me that there's nobody drowned; There's a bustle, confusion
away, and at last one day came a squaw with a story strange, Of a long-deserted line of traps 'way back of the Bighorn range; Of a little hut by the great
glare, There stumbled a miner fresh from the creeks, dog-dirty, and loaded for bear. He looked like a man with a foot in the grave and scarcely the strength of a
Leading to lands afar Singing in all kinds of weather And strumming my old guitar Here we go, just we three Oh, how happy we will be I'll hook my ladder to a
