Come all you young cowboys, I'll sing you a song
Stand back from the wagon, stay where you belong
I hear you observin', I'm fussy and slow
But while you're punchin' cattle, I'm punchin' the dough
Now you think you're right handy with gun and with rope
But I notice you're bashful when usin' the soap
When you're rollin' your bull for your brown cigarette
I'm rollin' the dough for the biscuits you eat
When you're cuttin' the stock, then I'm cuttin' a steak
When you're cuttin' the stock, then I'm cuttin' a steak

When you're wranglin' horses, I'm wranglin' a cake
When you're hazin' your doggies and battin' your eyes
I'm hazin' dried apples that aim to be pies
In the old days, the punchers took just what they got
It was sowbelly beans and the old coffee pot
But now you come howlin' for pie and for cake
Then cuss at the cook for a good bully
But now you come howlin' for pie and for cake
You say that I'm old with my feet on the skids
Well, I'm tellin' you now that you're nothin' but kids
If you reckon your mounts are some snakey and raw
Just try ridin' herd on a stove that won't draw
No use of your snartin' and fightin' your head
You're a snake in your head, you're a snake in your head
If you like it with chili, take just what I said
For I aims to be boss of this end of the show
When you're punchin' cattle, I'm punchin' the dough