Digital Tradition Mirror

The Castration of the Strawberry Roan

(This score available as ABC, SongWright, PostScript, PNG, or PMW, or a MIDI file)
Pennywhistle notation and Dulcimer tab for this song is also available

The Castration of the Strawberry Roan

I was layin' round town in a house of ill fame,
Laid up with a rough, tough hustlin' dame,
When a hop-headed pimp with his nose full of coke
Beat me outta that woman and left me stone broke.

When up steps a feller and he says, "Say, my lad,
You any damn good ridin' horses that's bad?"
I says, "You damn right! That's one thing I can do.
I'm a second-rate pimp, but a good buckaroo.

"Bring on your bad horses' cause I never saw one
That had me a guessin' or bothered me none."
He said. "Guess again, there's one horse that I own,
You might have heard of him, the Strawberry Roan."

I says, "I guess we've all heard of that ball bearin' stud,
He's got epizootic, the glanders, and crud,
He's the worst fuckin' outlaw that ever been foaled,
He hadn't been rode and he's twenty years old."

cho: Oh! the Strawherry Roan, how many colts has he thrown?
     He's got gonorrhea, the cankers, and syph,
     He's strictured with clap but his cock is still stiff
     Oh! that renegade Strawberry Roan.

The upshot of it was that I found myself hired
To snap out some colts that that breed stud had sired;
They was knot-headed cayuses just like their dad
Most of 'em roan, and all of 'em bad.

From mornin' till night how those bastards did fight,
Till my ass drug my tracks out way before night,
With my balls in my boots and my mouth full of shit,
I's plum tuckered out and all ready to quit.

When up steps the boss and he says, "That's enough,
Them strawberry roan colts is just too damn tough;
I'm plum sick and tired seein' you take them falls,
Rope that man-killin' stud and we'll carve out his balls."

cho: Oh! the Strawberry Roan, we went out to unbend his bone
     I built a big loop and went in the corral,
     Roped his front feet, and he farted and fell,
     And we flattened ol' Strawberry Roan.

The boss held his head, and I hog tied his legs,
Got out my jackknife and went for his eggs:
When I carved on his bag, he let out a squall,
And squealed like a pig when I whittled one ball.

But all I could locate was one of his nuts,
The other was hidden somewhere in his guts,
So I rolled up my sleeves and all over blood
I fished for the seed in the guts of that stud.

I thought I had found it, I felt something pass,
But it was only a turd on the way to his ass;
Just then I heard one of them blood-curdlin' squalls,
And I looked and the roan had the boss by the balls.

I tromped on his head, but it wasn't no use,
He was just like a bulldog, he wouldn't turn loose;
So I untied his legs, and he got to his feet,
But the boss's voice changed, and I knew we was beat.

cho: Oh! the Strawberry Roan, I advise you to leave him alone
     He's a knot-headed cayuse with only one ball,
     And the boss he's a eunuch with no balls at all,
     Lay off of the Strawberry Roan.

from The Whorehouse Bells Were Ringing, Logsdon
Collected from Baxter Black
DT #385
RG

Thanks to Mudcat for the Digital Tradition!