| An old cowboy went ridig out one dark and windy day, |
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Upon a ridge he rested as he went along his way, |
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When all at once a mighty herd of red-eyed cows he saw, |
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Ploughin' through the ragged skies and up the cloudy draw. |
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Their brands were still on fire and their hooves were made of steel, |
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Their horns were black and shiny and their hot breath he could feel, |
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A bolt of fear went through him as they thundered through the sky, |
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For he saw the riders coming hard, and he heard their mournful cry. |
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Yippee-i-ow, yippee-i-ay, |
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Their faces gone, their eyes were blurred, their shirts were soaked with sweat, |
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He's riding hard to catch that herd but he ain't caught 'em yet, |
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'Cause they've got to ride forever on that range up in the sky, |
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All horses snortin' fire, as they ride on hear their cry. |
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As the riders loped on by him, he heard one call his name, |
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If you wanna save your soul from hell a-ridin' on our range, |
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Then, cowboy, change your ways today or with us you will ride, |
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Tryin' to catch the devil's herd across those endless skies. |
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Yippee-i-ow, yippee-i-ay, |
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