Chuckwagon

Ned’s got her packed tight

With every pigeon hole layered

Good stuff’s hid out a sight

‘Cept fer aspirin, bayered.

Ned’s the doc and also the cook

Watch fer liniment smellin’ like oil

Don’t lose those recipes in the big book

Some is fer food, but there’s one fer a boil.

He can save you from saddle sore pain

Those first days on the trail

Don’t get no slivers nor thistles twain

‘Cause Ned’ll pull ’em ’til yer pale.

The first morning’s flapjacks

Fragrant with cinnamon

Syrup coatin’ their backs

Sure you can eat a ton.

You’re first to gather lunch wood

As Ned prepares biscuits and elk stew

You’re wantin’ chokecherry jelly if you could

Boy was that meal fit for a king, like you knew.

Ned’s got flour to his eyebrows

You can smell those apple tarts

Wish you had ice cream now

You know better ’cause you got some smarts.

Instead you sneak a second for your watch tonight

Pull out your mouth organ lullaby

And tuck those cows in plenty tight

‘Cause a stampede would yell yer good bye.

Late night boiled coffee with yer saved treat

Shortens your time on watch

But Ned’s always on his feet

Instead of restin’ in his sleepin’ notch.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *