A Dirty Ole Mustanger Like Me
In a BLM Office the phone rang merrily,
As the head guy answered, a voice said,
“There’s a mustang operation for you to see.”
As he headed for the chopper he told his crew,
“We’ve got to stop her, we’ve got to keep those little horses free.
so there’ll be jobs for guys like you and me.”
As he flew down Antelope Valley, Near Eureka, what did he see?
But a little mustang in a foot trap.
Now how could that be?
“Quick! Let’s land this Chopper,
We’ve got to get that little fellow free.
Without horses like that there won’t be jobs
For guys like you and me.”
Yes, it was quite a sight to see.
That office fattened fellow with his hair flashing yellow.
Through the lenses of my old field glass,
Just a trying to let that little mustang go free.
About then my thoughts turned to horror,
As I saw where he stood on the ground.
He better tred so lightly.
Just then he sank in the ground up to his knee.
Well he pawed the air and snorted, and kinda cavorted.
And you could see about his fetlock
Was a trap rope right where it should be.
Well his crew finally got him and that little mustang loose.
While looking awful happy. Well they headed for Eureka,
Where the story was told and retold.
In a very western way.
But to me there was no glory in the story.
For I can still plainly see through the lenses of my old field glass.
That office fattened fellow.
With his hair flashing yellow.
In that mustang foot trap,
Set by a dirty ole mustanger like me.