paroles de chanson Windy Bill - Ian Tyson

Well Windy Bill was a Texas man
And he could rope, you bet
The steer that Windy hadn't tied
He had not met him yet

But the boys they talked of a little black steer
Who's a kind of a bad outlaw
Who lived way down at the bottoms
At the foot of a rocky draw

Well, this old black steer had stood his ground
With punchers from everywhere
The boys give Windy two-to-one
That he could not quite get there

So Windy takes out his old roan horse
Who's withers and like to roar
And prepares to tackle that little black brute
That lives down in the draw
Ow!

With his sam slick tree, his brazos bits
His chaps and taps to boot
And his old Macguey tied hard and fast
Bill goes to tackle the brute

And the little rope horse he sauntered around
And that steer began to paw
Then he stuck his tail straight up in the air
And he heads down through the draw

Well, Windy's horse went after him
Like-a he'd been eatin' corn
Windy stuck that old Macguey
Right around that black steer's horns

And the little ropin' horse he shut it right down
And the cinches bust like straw
And the old macguey and the sam slick tree
Went driftin' down the draw
Wow

Well-a Windy lands in the big rock pile
And his face and hands are scratched
Well, he said he could always rope the steer
But he guess he'd met his match

And he pays his debts like a little old man
Without no bit of jaw
And allows old black steer was the boss
Of everything in that draw

Well, the moral of the story boys
Is very plain to see
When you go out to rope your steer
Don't you tie hard your macguey

But you take your dallies like a man
To the California law
And you won't see your old rimfire
Go driftin' down the draw