THE BLACK WAXED MUSTACHE
Three months we’ve been herdin’ the cattle, slow movin’ on hot dusty trails.
We arrive with the herd in Dodge City, a Cow Town of legend and tales.
With horses unsaddled and pastured and twenty five dollars in gold,
An advance by our trail boss for spendin,’ and don’t ask for more we are told.
A hot soaking bath then the barbers where Jake got his mustache waxed and curled,
We look purty and visit the ladies in their satin and silk perfumed world.
Jake’s mustache attracts some attention ladies tickle him under his chin,
The cowboys are not so enchanted and start to kick up quite a din.
Jakes had a few drinks and he’s mellow til a cowboy says something unkind,
Jake pokes his mustache in the mean cowboy’s face tell me boy he says what’s on your mind.
The cowboy whips out his Jim Bowie knife, with a flick of his wrist and a swirl
He sliced off one side of Jakes curly mustache then tables and chairs they are hurled.
The Hall bouncer of course had his eye on our crowd, a brute with a surly mean face.
He took Jake to task flashed his gun and his star, said he’d toss Jake right out’a the place.
The bouncer laughed hard when he saw Jake’s mustache, one side curly the other cut straight
Jake gave us ‘the word’ and walked out of the Hall that bouncer would soon meet his fate.
One at a time we all left the Dance Hall meeting up back again at the stable,
We collected our guns and rode back into town just as fast as our horses were able.
At the rear of the Hall was a big vacant lot, we left Jude holding onto our reins,
Six shooters were tucked in our trouser waistbands that bouncer would soon feel some pains.
There was no waste of words as a six shooter flashed, the bouncer shot back with his gun,
But he fell on the floor like a big side of beef his bouncer days over and done.
Jake next looked around for the cowboy who chopped one half off his black waxed mustache.
The cowboy he tried to sneak out the back door Jake grabbed him and said don’t be rash.
Don’t shoot said the cowboy I meant you no harm I beg you please don’t take my life.
You’re unarmed I won’t shoot said Jake with a sneer just hand me your Jim Bowie knife.
Now take off your hat and don’t make a move while I trim your long dirty blond hair
Jake shaved half the head of the trembling cowboy and said now we’re even, that’s fair.
Bewildered spectators they dropped to the floor as six shooters were turned on the ceiling,
The lights were shot out at the first round of fire, the faro card sharks kept on dealing.
We rushed out the door to the big vacant lot back to Jude who’s still holding our reins
Jumped into our saddles raced down the back streets ‘til we came to the junction on Main.
All would have gone well if we’d stayed out of town but Jakes pride was not satisfied
With a twirl of the half of his black waxed mustache he insisted downtown we must ride.
This was no time to parley we all followed Jake as he turned his gun loose in the air
Then I notiabout.htmlced a rope of fire belching smoke from a Winchester under a stair.
With no doubt in my mind it was aiming at us we raced for the next cross street fast
Jake reined in his horse and not wasting a shot fired back and then galloped on past.
Lead was thrown at us next by the posse in town Jake and I we were riding ahead
With a clattering of hooves and shooting behind we came close to being shot dead.
On the outskirts of town we slowed down our fast pace took a leisurely trot for a mile.
Jake twirling the half of his black waxed mustache looked back at the town with a smile.
At the end of a trail Dodge City he said has strong whiskey dance halls and good food
The folks are real friendly they welcome us in ‘cuz we’ve all got the right attitude.
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