A Ringer In The Making.

                     Words by Bill Brummell /Music By Ashley Cook.

 

                        Right mate here’s the saddle

                        That I have always promised you

                        It looks all worn and tattered

                        But it’ll grease up as good as new

 

                        I mended the bridle that misty broke

                        Last week when she pulled away

                        And you better take my new saddle colth

                        As yours is starting to frey

 

                        I can see you’ve greased your T boots

                        And your little old swag is rolled

                        Can’t help feeling a little concerned

                        Cause your only twelve years old

                        Your off to a branding muster

                        The first time you’ve gone alone

                        And I can’t come and help you

                        For there’s work to be done at home

 

                        Chorus:    Now don’t go fooling around Son

                               And don’t go giving them cheek

                                         Make sure you keep the tail coming

                        And don’t go falling asleep.

                        Now don’t go pinching the ringers beer.

                        Because mate if you  get caught

                        They might think your crazy enough

                        To ride that young girthy horse.

 

                        When there giving the final directions

                        Listen as good as you can

                        Otherwise you might get lost

                        And then they’ll be down a man

                        Try and be a little bit lively 

                        And read the mustering game

                        And if you give all you’ve got

   

                        You might get the job back again.

                        Now your ride is coming down the road

                        So shake my hand and go

                        And give your mother a sweet kiss

                        As you silently shoulder the load.             

                                      

                        Chorus:    Now don’t go fooling around Son

                               And don’t go giving them cheek

                                         Make sure you keep the tail coming

                        And don’t go falling asleep.

                        Now don’t go pinching the ringers beer.

                        Because mate if you  get caught

                        They might think your crazy enough

                        To ride that young girthy horse.