Come all of you cowboys all over this land
I'll sing you the law of the Ranger's command.

To hold a six-shooter and never to run
As long as there's bullets in both of your guns.

I met a fair maiden whose name I don't know
I asked her to the round-up with me would she go.

She said she'd go with me to the cold round-up
And drink that hard liquor from a cold bitter cup.

We started for the round-up in the fall of the year
Expecting to get there with a herd of fat steer.

When the rustlers broke on us in the dead hour of night
She rose from her warm bed a battle to fight.
She rose from her warm bed with a gun in each hand
Saying, "Come all you cowboys, and fight for your land."

Come all of you cowboys, and don't ever run
As long as there's bullets in both of your guns.

Copyright: T.R.O. INC.
Writer(s): WOODY GUTHRIE