We was camped on the plains at the head of the Cimmaron
Along came a stranger and stopped to arger some
He looked so very very foolish that we began to look around
We thought he was a greenhorn that just 'scaped from town
We'd asked if he'd had breakfast; he'd had not had a sniff
We opened up the chuck-box and told him help himself
He took a little beefsteak, a biscuits and some beans
And he then began to talk about the foreign kings and queens
He talked about the Spanish War and fighting on on the seas
With guns as big as beef steers and ramrods big as trees
And he talked about old Paul Jones, the fighting son of a gun
And he said he was the grittiest cuss that ever pulled a gun
Such an educated feller, his thoughts just come in herds
He astonished all us punchers with his jaw-breaking words
He just kept right on talking till he made the boys all sick
And we began to look around for how to play a trick
He said he'd lost his job out upon the Santa Fe
And he was going across the plains to strike the 7-D
But he didn't say how come it, just some trouble with his boss
He said he'd like to borrow a nice fat saddle hoss
This tickled all the boys to d**h; we laughed down in their sleeves
Said that he could have a horse as fresh as he would please
So shorty grabbed a la**o and he roped the Zebra Dun
And led him to the stranger as we waited for the fun
Now Old Dunny was an outlaw he had grown so awful wild
He could paw the white out of the moon every jump for a mile
And he always stood right still, just like he didn't know
Until he was saddled and ready for to go
Now the stranger hit the saddle, and old Dunny quit the earth
He went straight up in the air for all that he was worth
A-bawlin and a-squalin, and having a wall-eyed fit
With his hind feet perpendicular, and his front ones in the bit
Now we could see the tops of trees beneath him every jump
The stranger he was growed there just like the camel's hump
And he sat up there upon him and he curled his black mustache
Just like a summer boarder a waiting for his hash
Now he thumped him in the shoulders and he spurred him when he whirled
He showed us flunky punchers he's the wolf of this old world
And when he had dismounted once more upon the ground
Why we knew he was a thoroughbred and not a gent from town
Now the boss he was a-standing and a-watching all the show
He walks right up to him and he asks him not to go
"If you can use the la**o like you rode the Zebra Dun
Then your the man I've looked for ever since the year of one"
Well he could use a la**o and he didn't do it slow
The cattle they stampeded he was always on the go
A one thing and a sure thing that I've learned since I've been born
Every educated feller he ain't a plumb greenhorn