Tonalité : D major•
Intro 1
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Verse 1
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Well, the last big buffalo run is done,
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and the hides are stripped and gone.
I'm a -standing here in dead ghost
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city on a pile of rattling bones
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Three -pronged
Pete runs down my street,
Em
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he's yelling out his lungs
There's a wild stampede coming through
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town and it's led by the wild cyclone
I darched in back of some bales of hay
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as the wild herd jostled past.
Well, I could not spot their leader horse,
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cause they all went past so fast.
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A wind -burnt girl rode in that herd,
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and I seen her toss her lute.
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Her horsey fell, and the girl did yell,
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I've missed that wild cyclone.
I lifted her up from that dusty street,
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on top of my bales of hay.
She pulled her hair and cried and said,
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that cyclone got away.
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She said, I trailed in six long years
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since heat was just a cold.
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I squeezed her hand and said,
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I'll help you snag that wild cyclone.
We bought for her a saddling done
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with an engine bridled to.
Stopped our pack on the
Swayback
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Bay and trailed for a week or two.
In
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Dry
Gasp
Valley pitched our camp where the
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cold water springs did run.
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Played every trap in the
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Bloom
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Tale book, but we missed
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that wild cyclone.
One day, just when the sun comes up,
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my gay friend
Gabson
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Min throws a loose loop on a
mare.
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She told me with a grin, we'll build a pen around this mare,
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and the cyclone's bound
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to come.
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Before too many moons roll by,
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we'll have that wild cyclone.
Well, small rail fence we built around
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this fair young hickory mare.
That same old night as the
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moon was bright, old
Wild
Cyclone was there.
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He pushed the gate to the rail corral
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and he rubbed his lady's nose.
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We laced our gates with leathery straps
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and trapped that wild cyclone.
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My windburned girl did feel so gay,
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she kissed my leathery cheeks.
Then both rode back, pitching
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Horntown to the justice of the peace.
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We bred this fair and beautiful mare
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to the stormy wild cyclone.
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It's now our kids ride past us on the
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fastest horses grown.
Outro 1
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F#m
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