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Ride for the Brand
Red Steagall
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๐ฌ๐ง English ยท Original
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Lyrics
Original
Translation
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I'd like to dedicate this poem to the memory of my good friend Paul Whitley
"Paul lived by himself for over 40 years at the cedar top camp on the Wagner Ranch
Just outside of Vernon, Texas"
"His skin looked like leather
He walked with a limp, talked with a slow Texas drawl
His knuckles were knotted and his right thumb was gone
He said a stud bit it off late last fall, but hell, we knew he was lying
We'd watched him dally it up"
"It ain't healthy to call him a liar, and it was Saturday night before the wagon went out
And he was setting our new kid on fire
Now, we've all heard his stories about places he's been, and we think that Jake's kind of strange
He looked over at me and said
I'm schooling this boy about the unwritten laws of the range"
"And the kid was enthralled, kind of like in a trance
Jake sensed that he had a good grip, so he straightened up, hitched his pants
Took a drink cold beer and turned around with his hand on his hips, and he said
Son, a man's brand is his own special mark
It says, this is mine, leave it alone"
"If you hire out to a man, ride for his brand and protect it like it was your own
Mr. Wagner come out here in 1903
This country was sagebrush, mesquite trees, and sand
He carved him this ranch out of blood, sweat, and guts
Be proud that you ride for his brand"
"If you hired out to string barbed wire, build him a fence
It don't matter if it's four or five strand
Just remember, it was you who asked for the job
Don't bitch when you ride for this brand
'Cause Mr. Wagner don't hold with complainers
He'll fire one before he can quit
If you don't like our outfit, head down the trail and find a horse that your saddle will fit"
"But if you get up early, catch your own bronc, show the boss that you're making a hand
Mr. Wagner will be there to cover your bets
As long as you ride for his brand"
"He said, the winter I spent at the Sixes, we had a man at the old tailor place
Who rode up on some hiders, a skin and a cow, squared off at them scamps face to face
Now, he could have rode off, never looked back
But he wasn't that kind of man
We found him in Ash Creek, shot all to hell
Nocona Joe died for the brand"
"Well, we know the old man tells a windy or two, like the one about losing his thumb
And Nocona was killed in a bar in Fort Worth by the demons in a bottle of rum"
"But I got to thinking about what he had said
And the more of it I understand
The more I believe we'd be all better off
If more people would ride for the brand"
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