Skyball Paint

Now Skyball Paint was a devil's saint
His eyes was a fiery red
Good men have tried this horse to ride
But all of them are dead

Now I won't brag but I rode this nag
Till his blood began to boil
Then I hit the ground and I ate three pounds
Of good old western soil

Singin' hi ho, whoopie ti-yo
Ride him high and down you go
Sons of the western soil
Sons of the western soil

Well, I swore by heck, I'd break his neck
For the jolt he gave my pride (I remember that)
I would slip my noose on the old cayuse
And once more took a ride

Turned around, pretty soon I found
His head where his tail should be
So I said, "Says, I, perhaps he's shy
Or just don't care for me"

Singin' hi ho, whoopie ti-yo
Ride him high and down you go
Sons of the western soil
Sons of the western soil

In town, one day I chanced to stray
Upon old Sheriff Jim
For a hoop and a holler
And a counterfeit dollar
I sold that nag to him

But when he plants the seat of his pants
On Skyball's leather chair
I'll bet four bits when Skyball quits
Old Jim will not be there

Singin' hi ho, whoopie ti-yo
Ride him high and down you go
Sons of the western soil
Sons of the western soil
Sons of the western soil