Lyrics:
CHRISTMAS IN THE BUNKHOUSE Brenn HillRed Cliffs Press Music (BMI) Verse 1: Ol' Shifty's on his mouth harp a blowin' Jingle Bells The road to town's
Star in my hand It's a quarter for the jukebox boys Play the Sons of the Mother Lovin' Bunkhouse Band You ask me what I like about Texas It's the big
On the ranch there's a lonely old bunkhouse Since all the old timers have gone To a ranch with a much better bunkhouse That you hear about only in
On the ranch there's a lonely old bunkhouse Since all the old timers have gone To a ranch with a much better bunkhouse That you hear about only in
G)Theres one empty cot in the bunkhouse Theres a saddle that (G7) nobody (C) rides One empty place at the (G) table The remuda is five horses (D)
to sundown Ridin' herd on old memories Sundown to sun up Singin' the bunkhouse blues There's a lone bawlin' calf Lost in a little box canyon Got
It's a quarter for the jukebox, boys, Play the sons of the mothers of the bunkhouse band! You ask me what I like about Texas It's the big timber round
[Chorus] Well I'm hanging up my heart, in the lodge in the bunkhouse I don't wanna be wounded by the wrong kind of love No more rodeo dances, no
Goodbye to the old empty bunkhouse Where I dreamed the hours away Send my mail to the end of the trail So long to the red river valley. I'll roll up
to sundown Ridin' herd on old memories Sundown to sun up Singin' the bunkhouse blues There's a lone bawlin' calf Lost in a little box canyon Got
Goodbye to the old empty bunkhouse Where I dreamed the hours away Send my mail to the end of the trail So long to the red river valley. I'll roll up
Well I'm hanging up my heart, in the lodge in the bunkhouse I don't wanna be wounded by the wrong kind of love No more rodeo dances, no more howling
old horse knows his way home Cowboy blues fade to black In an old bunkhouse rack And so I whistle "Back "In the Saddle Again" Cowboy blues fade
to the old empty bunkhouse Where I dreamed the hours away Send my mail to the end of the trail So long to the red river valley. I'll roll up my beddin'
get me another one mean as hell I shot me a calf and I cut off her head 'Cause the boys in the bunkhouse are waitin' to be fed They rise in chime
hammers and drawin' our pay Drivin' 'em in and tyin' 'em down Away to the bunkhouse and into the town A dollar a day and a place for my head A drink
rattled heavy On the bunk-house shingles, And the sounds in the night, They made my ears ring. 'Til the keys of the guards Clicked the tune
hammers and drawin' our pay Drivin' 'em in and tyin' 'em down Away to the bunkhouse and into the town A dollar a day and a place for my head A drink
closed down the bunkhouse and had locked the door Now there's oilwells and motels and folks by the score But there's nobody home on the range anymore
little cowboys Back in the bunkhouse now, so Close your eyes and dream
and RAF bunkhouse I borrowed a bible the fellow who owned it wanted it shared Outside a locked door in front of a dusty store outside a locked door
wheelers cab Riding hell bent for the bunkhouse Just across the Georgia line Where tonight I'll see my lady And that little boy of mine And he wants
when I hear that word||He said I'll only give ya seven bucks a day|But if you're any good you'll get a raise in pay||Your beds already on the bunkhouse
said the boss at the bunkhouse door There's a freeze on the branches So when the dice came out at the bar downtown I rolled and I took my chances
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