Come all you young cowboys, I'll sing you a songStand back from the wagon, stay where you belongI hear you observin', I'm fussy and slowBut while you're punchin' cattle, I'm punchin' the doughNow you think you're right handy with gun and with ropeBut I notice you're bashful when usin' the soapWhen you're rollin' your bull for your brown cigaretteI'm rollin' the dough for the biscuits you eatWhen you're cuttin' the stock, then I'm cuttin' a steakWhen you're cuttin' the stock, then I'm cuttin' a steakWhen you're wranglin' horses, I'm wranglin' a cakeWhen you're hazin' your doggies and battin' your eyesI'm hazin' dried apples that aim to be piesIn the old days, the punchers took just what they gotIt was sowbelly beans and the old coffee potBut now you come howlin' for pie and for cakeThen cuss at the cook for a good bullyBut now you come howlin' for pie and for cakeYou say that I'm old with my feet on the skidsWell, I'm tellin' you now that you're nothin' but kidsIf you reckon your mounts are some snakey and rawJust try ridin' herd on a stove that won't drawNo use of your snartin' and fightin' your headYou're a snake in your head, you're a snake in your headIf you like it with chili, take just what I saidFor I aims to be boss of this end of the showWhen you're punchin' cattle, I'm punchin' the dough