Introduction

When some 'injuns killed ma paw, my maw brought us up way out west....

Way Out West

I was only four when my paw was killed,
By a bunch of Indians down on our farm.
My maw fought them off with her rolling pin,
She made sure that we came to no harm.

After the funeral she ripped up all her dresses,
Her bras, and suspenders and smalls.
"I'll be the man of the house now",she said,
"Even if I 'aint got any balls"

Well, maw was always as good as her word,
She never once let us kids down.
She'd strangle a chicken for our dinner,
And thought nothing of walking miles into town.

At four in the morning she'd be out in the field,
Ploughin' with a couple of steers.
Then after she fed us and put us to bed,
She'd go to the saloon for a couple of beers.

Maw was always good at winnin' at poker,
The extra money kept us watered and fed.
Then one of the 'James' brothers said she was cheatin'
So she shot both the Yankee bums dead.

I remember the time that we got a new 'hoss,
Maw struggled to break the beast in.
She rode on it's back as it bucked her about,
She was hollerin' and makin' plenty of din.

The huge animal bucked her, and bucked her again,
Sixteen times she was thrown onto the grass.
Maw spat a chunk of baccy into it's eye,
Then went round and kicked it's big ass.

That hoss looked my mammy up and down,
And then it's blood began to run cold.
"I'M THE BOSS HERE!", she yelled at the animal,
"AND YOU WILL DO AS YOU'RE BLOODY WELL TOLD!"

A saddle was then thrown onto it's back,
It was taught that the reins were it's brakes.
That hoss turned out to be the best one we had,
And when he died he was cut up into steaks.

My brother and I were in charge of the chickens,
He and I would collect all the eggs.
Meantime maw would be brandin' some cattle,
Who'd be pokin' their horns into her legs.

When I was thirteen she taught me to shoot,
With the gun that belonged to my paw.
My first shot nearly took her left eye out,
The second blew the balls off a Jackdaw.

I then married our neigbour, young Ellie - May,
And now we've got young ones of our own.
Maw is still workin' the ranch way out west,
And she'd STILL rather be ploughin' than sewin'

Copyright; Topoke
Email: jimbotopoke@btinternet.com