I've got no use for the women
a true one may seldom be found
They'll use a man for his money when
its gone they'll turn him down
They're all alike at the bottom
selfish and grasping for all
They'll stay by a man when he's winning
and laugh in his face when he falls
My pal was an honest young puncher
honest and upright and true
Till he turned to a gunshooting gambler
on account of a girl named Lou
They fell in with evil companions the
kind they are better off dead
When a gambler insulted her
picture he filled him full of lead
All through the long night they trailed him
through mesquite and thick chaparral
I couldn't help think of that wo
man as I saw him pitch and fall
If she'd been the pal that she should
have he might have been rising a son
Instead of out there in the prairie to
die by a ranger's gun
Death's sharp sting did not trouble his
chances for life were too slim
Where they were putting his body
was all that worried him
He lifted his head on his elbow the blood
from his wound flowed red
He gazed at his friends gathered round him
he looked up at them and he said
Bury me out on the prairie where the
coyotes can howl o'er my grave
Bury me out on the prairie but from
them my bones please save
Wrap me up in a blanket bury
me deep in the ground
Cover me over the boulders of
granite big and round
We buried him on the prairie where
the coyotes can howl o'er his grave
His soul is now aresting from
the unkind cut she gave
And many another young puncher as
he rides past the pile of stones
Recalls some similar woman and
think of his moldering bones