Cifra de Sierry Petes - Colter Wall
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Primeiro acorde: E 6 acordes identificados
Afinação: E A D G B ECapotraste: Sem capotraste
[Verse]
G
Way high up in the Sierry Petes
Where the yeller pines grow tall,
Rusty Diggs and Sandy Bob
Had a rodeo camp last fall.
Well they taken their ponies and their running irons
And a-maybe a dog or two,
And they 'lowed they’d brand every long-eared calf
Now any old dogie that flapped long ears
And didn't bush up by day,
Had his long ears whittled and his old hide sizzled
In a most artistic way.
Then says Rusty Diggs to Sandy Bob,
As he throwed his seago down,
"I'm tired of cow-pyrography
And I rise I'm a goin' to town."
So he saddles up, and he hits some lope
For it weren’t no sight of a ride,
Them was the days when an old cow-punch
Could oil up his dry insides.
Well he starts her in at the Kentucky Bar,
At the head of the Whisky Row,
And they ends her up at the Depot House
Some forty drinks below.
And he winds her up and they turns around
And they goes her the other way,
To tell you the Lord’s forsaken truth
Them boys got stewed that day.
As they was a heading back to camp
And packin' a pretty good load,
Who should they meet but the Devil himself
Come a-prancin' down the road.
And the Devil he said, “You cowboy skunks,
You better go hunt your holes,
'Cause I've come up from Hell's rim rocks
Just to gather in your souls.”
Well Rusty Diggs said, “Devil be damned,"
"And I know I’m pretty tight;
No Devil never took no ol’ cowpunch
Without one helluva fight."
He Builds him a hole with his ol’ throw rope
And he swang her straight and true,
he lapped it onto the Devil’s horns,
and taken his dallies too.
Now Sandy Bob was a reata man
With his gut-line coiled up neat;
He shakes her out and he builds him a loop
And he lassoed the Devil’s hind feet.
Well he throwed him down on the desert ground
While the iron was a-gettin’ hot,
They cropped and swaller-forked his ears,
And they branded him up a lot.
They pruned him up with a dehorning saw
Tied knots in his tail for a joke,
D
Tied off and left him bellerin’ there
Knicked up to a black-jack oak.
So if you’re ever up in the Sierry Petes
And you hear one hell of a wail,
You’ll know it's that Devil a-bellerin' around
About the knots ties in his tail.