Horse Walking

THE BALLAD OF BUTT-HOLE BART
written by Doug Moreland, ASCAP and Billy Applegate, BMI

Five feet tall and four feet wide
He couldn’t rope and he couldn’t ride
He’s a grizzly picture of rough art
No one held a flame to Butt-hole Bart

He came from Stinkin’ Springs, New Mexico
A hole in the crack of a wall some folks say
But in a show down he’s 40 and 0
And he’s never worn a pistol
to this very day

Dead-eye Dick was a wiry man
Rode into Texas six gun in his hand
“I’m lookin’ fer the man who shot my paw. Heard he’s in these parts”
Walked in the Longdrop Saloon and called out Butt-hole Bart

Dick gave him just enough time to eat
Bart stepped out into the street
A gallon of beer and a big ol’ pot of beans
“Where’s your gun?” “Aw, this is all the ammo I’ll need.”

He let loose a belch and he scratched his ****
Someone said, “Watch out, Bart. I hear he’s fast.”
He faced down Dick twenty paces away
Dick said, “Bart, this is your dying day.”

Bart wasn’t worried, he said, “I’ll take a crack.”
He loosened his belt and turned his back
Dick drew his gun and Bart flexed his cheeks
Then a sound like thunder rumbled down the street.

When the cloud cleared and the dust settled down
Dick went limp, lay dead on the ground
Bart walked away in the setting sun
The streaks in his drawers now numbered forty-one.

He came from Stinkin’ Springs, New Mexico
A hole in the crack of a wall some folks say
But in a show down he’s 40 and 0
And he’s never worn a pistol
to this very day

Five feet tall and four feet wide
He couldn’t rope and he couldn’t ride
He’s a grizzly picture of rough art
No one held a flame to Butt-hole Bart