Range Pains
By John Downing
Not too long ago
I was ride’n on the range
Deep inside my stomach,
I was feel’n kinda strange
Could’ve been the steak & eggs
Or the moonshine from last night
Whatever it was, I had to stop
‘cause thing’s weren’t feel’n right
I bound down from my horse
And headed for a bush
With cactus here and thistles there
It was too dangerous for my tush
One hand upon my stomach
I wasn’t mov’n very fast
Oh, the pain was com’n on too quick
How long could I last?
Then at last I found my prize
A group of flowered trees
But in those trees, to my dismay
Were nests of nasty bees
I could have run to save my life
And I’d live another day
But my stomach wouldn’t have this do
I blew them all away
And to this day the story’s told
Of the blasted bees I slew
And if you ever ride the range
I’d recommend the stew.
