That 30 US On The Wall

A man that's spent years knocking round "
out in front"  Has most usually had lots of pals--He's mixed up with pardners at various times  And he's had his affairs with the gals.

Now, a pardner's peculiar in lots of his ways  And he'll ditch you for various reasons,

And a gal never knows straight up from twice  And her mind seems to change with the seasons.

I've been in on good ground with pardners I've staked  And I thought they were square, till I

They were trying to cross me, the miserable pups,  And whipsaw me out of my ground.

I've had a few pards that would stand the hard grind  And they'd stick through hard luck night and day;

They were all you could ask while you rustled for grub,  But they blew up when you uncovered the "
pay."Way back in the "
eighties" when I'm just a kid,  I crossed up with a breed gal I'd

One winter at Circle; she cleaned me that year  And skipped out with all she could get.

I've fallen for females in half of the camps  That's spread over this country up here,

But "
square guys" or "
pretzels" I couldn't get by  And none of them stuck for a year.

I got kind of discouraged and quit the she sex  And figgered I'd just herd with males,

But it don't make no difference,

I guess that I'm wrong, 'Cause there's always the parting of trails.

I've had lots of dogs, but a dog always dies,  Or else the poor devil gets killed.

When you like 'em and lose 'em, their loss leaves a hole  That seems for a time can't be filled.

So pardners and females and dogs is taboo  And I know, 'cause I've fussed with 'em all.

There's only one pal that I know is true blue  And it's that Thirty U.

S. on the wall.

She's stood by my shoulder and stopped a brown bear  And she keeps the cache full in the Fall;

She's got the one talk that a claim jumper knows  And she craves no attention at all.

I'm getting old now, and some sot in my ways,  And I don't loosen up like I did.

I'm slower to make friends and slower to trust  Than I used to be when I'm a kid.

So it's good-by to females and good-by to dogs,  And good-by to pardners and all,

For the only one pal that I find I can trust  Is that Thirty U.

S. on the wall.