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A Western Song or a Country Song that Reminds Me of Brokeback Mountain

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tiawahcowboy:
King Of The Road
Roger Miller

Trailer for sale or rent,
Rooms to let fifty cents.
No phone, no pool, no pets;
I ain't got no cigarettes.
Ah but two hours of pushin' broom
buys an eight by twelve four bit room.
I'm a man of means, by no means king of the road.

Third boxcar, midnight train;
Destination Bangor, Maine.
Old worn out suits and shoes,
I don't pay no Union dues.
I smoke old stogies I have found,
Short but not too big around.
I'm a man of means, by no means king of the road.

I know every engineer on every train,
All of the children and all of their names
And every handout in every town
And every lock that ain't locked when no one's around.

Trailer for sale or rent,
Rooms to let fifty cents.
No phone, no pool, no pets;
I ain't got no cigarettes.
Ah but two hours of pushin' broom
Buys an eight by twelve four bit room.
I'm a man of means, by no means king of the road.

tiawahcowboy:
 
Little Joe the Wrangler - A poem written by Nathan "Jack" Thorp in 1898 that he set to the tune of "The Little Old Cabin Down the Lane" (a folk song written in 1871 by

William Hayes). Thorp spent his early days traveling the West, often hiring on as a cowhand. He always carried a banjo and gathered songs as well as the herd.

Little Joe The Wrangler
He was little Joe, the wrangler,
   he'll wrangle nevermore
His days with the remuda, they are o'er
Was a year ago last April
   that he rode into our camp
Just a little Texas stray and all alone

His saddle was a Texas kak,
   made many years ago
With an OK spur on one foot lightly slung
His bedroll in the cotton sack
   was loosely tied behind
And his canteen o'er his saddle horn was hung

He said if we would give him work
   he'd do the best he could
Though he didn't know straightup about a cow
So the boss he cut him out a mount
   and he kindly put him on
'Cause he sort o' liked this little kid somehow

He learned to wrangle horses,
   and know 'em all by name
And get them in by daybreak, if he could
To follow the chuckwagon
   and always hitch the team
And help the Cocinero rustle wood

Well, we'd driven down the Pecos,
   the weather being fine
We camped on the south side in a bend
When a norther started blowin,
   and we called out every man
For it'd taken all us hands to hold 'em in

Well, Little Joe, the wrangler,
   was called out with the rest
Although the kid had scarcely reached the herd
When the cattle they stampeded,
   like a hailstorm 'long they fled
And we was all a' ridin for the lead

Amid'st the streaks of lightin
   we could see a horse ahead
T'was little Joe, the wrangler, in the lead
He was ridin old Blue Rocket
   with a slicker o'er his head
A tryin to check the cattle in their speed

At last we got them millin'
   and kind'a quieted down
And the extra guard back to the wagon went
But one o' them was missin',
   and we knew it at a glance
Was our little Texas stray, poor wrangling Joe

Next mornin', just at daybreak,
   we found where Rocket fell
In a washout twenty feet below
And beneath his horse, smashed to a pulp,
   his spur had rung the knell
Was a little Texas stray, poor wranglin' Joe

tiawahcowboy:
I have a number of Western Music CDs and Country Music CDs which have songs on them that remind me of Brokeback Mountain, both the book and the Movie.

The first one is a somewhat contemporary one sung by a real cowgirl, Reba McEntire. (Oh, I used to think her brother, Pake, was really cute. He did sing for short while but the went back to cowboyin'.)

I'm Gonna Take That Mountain
By: Reba McEntire
From the album: Room to Breathe
Written by Jerry Salley and Melissa Pierce

I'm gonna take that moutain

I was born a stubborn soul
Ain't afraid of the great unknown
Or a windin' road that's all uphill
This is just a stumblin' block
Intimidatin' wall of rock
If you think this broken heart will break my will

I'm gonna take that mountain
Ain't nothin' gonna slow me down
And there ain't no way around it
Gonna leave it level with the ground
Ain't just gonna cross it, climb it, fight it
I'm gonna take that mountain

It's overwhelmin' lookin' up
And knowin' it's the challenge of me
Against this heartache to survive
I may slip and I may fall
But even if I have to crawl
I'll break through to the healin' side

I'm gonna take that mountain
Ain't nothin' gonna slow me down
And there ain't no way around it
Gonna leave it level with the ground
Ain't just gonna cross it, climb it, fight it
I'm gonna take that mountain

Ain't just gonna cross it, climb it, fight it

Yeah, I'm gonna take that mountain
Ain't nothin' gonna slow me down
And there ain't no way around it
Gonna leave it level with the ground
Ain't just gonna cross it, climb it, fight it
I'm gonna take that mountain

I was born a stubborn soul
This is just a stumblin' block
I'm gonna take that mountain

tiawahcowboy:
Chris LeDoux - Old Cowboy Classics

Bull Rider

I was sittin' the a barroom one rainy afternoon
Tellin' stories about rodeo and listening to a tune

The rodeo starts tomorrow in this one horse town

So Bill took our names ane put our entries down

I went to the office the next day to see

What bareback horse I had and pay me fees

I looked on the list but my name wasn't found

I thought Bill might have forgot to put me down

I looked on the board and I happened to find

My name was on another list I was in the bull ridin'

My knees began to knock and my face began to sweat

And I heaved and gagged on the rodeo office steps

Well I may be a fool but a coward I'm not

So I borrowed a bull rope with a bell in the knot

I walked in the arena with them other bull ridin' fools

And walked down to the chutes and found my bull

Then I put my rope in the middle of his back

I had some cowboy pull out the slack

And then I wrapped the tail around my hand and back and said

Boy's open the gate just a little bitty crack

Well the bull hit the gate with his head

And I could see over his hump that his eyes were red

He bailed out of there with a big snort and beller

And something inside of me told me I was yeller

Well the dust and hairs and flies come off his hump

It whisp to my nose as he made another jump

And the stink of it all was more than I could stand

So I jerked my wrap and opened my hand

Well he jumped in the air and made one more turn

As the rope slid through my hand it sure did burn

He flang me down in a great big heap and

Right in the middle of me he did leap

With his feet on my belly standin' in place

That dirty old bull blew snot in my face

So them damned old bulls you can run 'em in a chute

And put your ropes on them big galloots

But the closest you're gonna find me to their stinkin' hair

Is to help some other fool get flug in the air

Boy the next time I see Bill I'm gonna break his dang neck

Enter me in the bull ridin'

Shoot I think I'll enter him in the Barrel Racing

tiawahcowboy:
Ballad of the Alamo
Recorded by Marty Robbins
Written by Dimitri Tiomkine and Paul Francis Webster for the 1960 movie The Alamo

In the southern part of Texas
In the town of San Antone
There's a fortress all in ruins that the weeds have overgrown
You may look in vain for crosses and you'll never see a-one
But sometimes between the setting and the rising of the sun
You can hear a ghostly bugle
As the men go marching by
You can hear them as they answer
To that roll call in the sky.

Colonel Travis, Davy Crockett, and a hundred eighty more
Captain Dickinson, Jim Bowie
Present and accounted for.

Back in 1836, Houston said to Travis
"Get some volunteers and go
Fortify the Alamo."
Well the men came from Texas
And from old Tennessee
And they joined up with Travis
Just to fight for the right to be free.

Indian scouts with squirrel guns
Men with muzzle-loaders
Stood together, heel and toe
To defend the Alamo.

"You may ne'er see your loved ones,"
Travis told them that day
"Those who want to can leave now
Those who fight to the death let 'em stay."

In the sand he drew a line
With his army sabre
Out of a hundred eighty five
Not a soldier crossed the line
With his banners a-dancin'
In the dawn's golden light
Santa Anna came prancing
On a horse that was black as the night.

Sent an officer to tell
Travis to surrender
Travis answered with a shell
And a rousing rebel yell
Santa Anna turned scarlet
"Play deguello!" he roared
"I will show them no quarter
Every one will be put to the sword!"

One hundred and eighty five
Holding back five thousand
Five days, six days, eight days, ten
Travis held and held again
Then he sent for replacements
For his wounded and lame
But the troops that were coming
Never came, never came, never came...

Twice he charged and blew recall
On the fatal third time
Santa Anna breached the wall
And he killed 'em, one and all
Now the bugles are silent
And there's rust on each sword
And the small band of soldiers...

Lie asleep in the arms of the Lord...

In the southern part of Texas
Near the town of San Antone
Like a statue on his pinto rides a cowboy all alone
And he sees the cattle grazing where a century before
Santa Anna's guns were blazing and the cannons used to roar
And his eyes turn sorta misty
And his heart begins to glow
And he takes his hat off slowly...

To the men of Alamo.

To the thirteen days of glory
At the siege of Alamo...

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