Top Songs By Michael Martin Murphey
Credits
PERFORMING ARTISTS
Michael Martin Murphey
Vocals
Sena McClintock
Performer
William Matthews
Performer
Dennis Burnside
Keyboards
Joseph Miskulin
Accordion
Biff Watson
Acoustic Guitar
Mark Casstevens
Acoustic Guitar
Steve Gibson
Electric Guitar
John McEuen
Banjo
Craig Nelson
Bass Guitar
Michael Rhodes
Bass Guitar
Eddie Bayer
Drums
Jerry Kroon
Drums
David Hoffner
Keyboards
Mark O'Connor
Fiddle
Cactus Moser
Vocals
Curtis Stone
Vocals
Don Edwards
Vocals
Jack Daniels
Vocals
Jim Bob Tinsley
Vocals
Paulette Tenae Carlson
Vocals
Red Stegall
Vocals
Tammy Wynette
Vocals
Paul Franklin
Guitar
Sonny Garrish
Guitar
Terry McMillan
Harmonica
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Michael Martin Murphey
Arranger
Dennis Burnside
Orchestrator
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
Michael Martin Murphey
Producer
Steve Gibson
Producer
Denny Purcell
Mastering Engineer
Carl Tatz
Mixing Engineer
Rich Schirmer
Mixing Engineer
Lyrics
Oh come along, boys, and listen to my tale,
I'll tell you all my troubles on the ol' Chisholm trail.
(chorus)
Come a-ti yi youpy youpy yea youpy yea
Come a-ti yi youpy youpy yea
On a ten dollar horse and a forty dollar saddle,
I was ridin', and a punchin' Texas cattle.
We left ol' Texas October twenty-third
Drivin' up the trail with the U-2 herd.
I'm up in the morning before daylight,
And before I sleep the moon shine bright.
It's bacon and beans most every day,
I'd just as soon be eating prairie hay.
I woke up one morning on the Chisholm trail,
With a rope in my hand and a cow by the tail,
Last night on guard, and the leader broke the ranks,
I hit my horse down the shoulders and spurred him in the flanks.
Oh, it's cloudy in the west, and a lookin' like rain,
And my darned old slicker's in the wagon again.
Oh the wind commenced to blow and the rain began to fall,
And it looked by grab that we was gonna lose 'em all.
I jumped in the saddle an' I grabbed a-hold the horn,
The best damned cowpuncher ever was born.
I was on my best horse, and a going on the run,
The quickest shootin' cowboy that ever pulled a gun.
No chaps, no slicker, and it's pouring down rain,
And I swear, by God, I'll never night herd again.
I herded and I hollered, and I done pretty well,
Till the boss said, "Boys, just let 'em go to Hell."
I'm going to the ranch to draw my money,
Goin' into town to see my honey.
I went to the boss to get my roll,
He figured me out nine dollars in the hole.
So I'll sell my outfit as fast as I can,
And I won't punch cows for no damn man.
So I sold old baldy and I hung up my saddle,
And I bid farewell to the longhorn cattle.
Writer(s): Michael Martin Murphey
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