We had a bronc we couldn't bust, 
Mean an' quick an' wild.! 
We had a rider that called all bets 
Rusty Jones the mild. 
Two-String Bill gets his rope tied on 
An' he yels in strident tones, 
"Bet you caint ride this Rattler hawse!" 
"Call yu!" sez Rusty Jones.  

We cinches the leather tight on his back, 
(An' I had a mouthful o' ear) 
Rusty crawls on an' settles hisself 
An' sure as I'm sittin' here, 
That Rattler hawse caves into tha fence 
An' the Boss he kinda moans, 
"He's gointa kill my best top-hand!" 
"Call yu!" Grunts Rusty Jones. 

No sooner he sez it than off he goes, 
An' he's lying there on the ground. 
We tries to stop that outlaw hawse 
But he strikes as he swings around! 
We turns our heads when we hears him hit 
But we heard the smashin' bones- 
The Boss sez, "Rusty's done for, Gents!" 
"Call yu," Croaks Rusty Jones. 

         The Stumble Bum