Saddle Tramp Philosopher 创作者：
Waddie Mitchell

N/A

调：Db major

Verse 1
F 
Am 
F 
We
were
branding Zaga's cattle
at Frost Canyon in the spring
Am 
F 
when neighboring with each other
was still such a normal thing
G 
F 
that a fellow never realized
Gm 
that the use of this practical tool
G 
in twenty years would be an exception
Dm 
F 
and not the common rule.
G 
Am 
The wives were all at the cabin visiting
F 
Gm 
an d cooking a feast
that'd be served up on long
F 
tables with benches
when the sun had moved from the east.
G 
F 
Everyone else was down at the trap
G 
Gm 
F 
in the dust and the wind and the sun,
G 
in unwashed Levi's
Gm 
G 
and sweat -stained hats,
F 
G 
teaching me work can be fun.
F 
Eb 
From the west, a  rider came,
G 
leading a packhorse
towards camp.
F 
Dad put his hand on my shoulder
G 
F 
Eb 
and said, son, there's a last saddle tramp.
G 
Well, to the mind of this 13 -year -old,
F 
Eb 
that was romantic as hell.
G 
Am 
He rode up to the herd
G 
to visit with Fred,
and I learned his
Em 
name was Thomas O'Dell.
G 
He asked Fred permission
F 
to camp a few days,
G 
rest his horses,
mend a sawbuck.
F 
Am 
He's told he's welcome.
F 
There's grain in the barn,
and well,
G 
we'd soon all be sent to Chuck.
Well, we had finished the branding
F 
and had washed at the creek
and was hunting some shade
and a drink
G 
when Tom yelled out loud, Fred,
your outhouse is locked.
And then just stood there
F 
and squinted and blinked.
Well, Fred pulled out a key,
threw it to Tom.
G 
F 
He said, you know, vandals,
insurance and such.
They broke all the dishes.
They've shot out her phone.
G 
F 
G 
We just can't be here that much."
F 
But Tom wasn't about to let this thing drop.
G 
He kept standing there
F 
blinking his eyes.
I recognize now,
that's the cue that he gives,
G 
F 
just be fore he philosophizes.
G 
He said, Fred, my granddaddy,
Lord rest his soul,
G 
Am 
took a homestead in what's
now Arkansas.
G 
And the first thing he done
was to dig a deep hole
and take some lumber
F 
he'd cut from the raw
G 
and built him a three -holer privy,
one that'd stand through the good
F 
times and bad.
And for thirty years, Fred,
Gm 
G 
he never locked the door once.
G 
Then he turned the place
F 
over to Dad.
G 
Then through the Depression,
Dad raised us kids.
G 
There's times we
F 
G 
didn't  have a dime. time.
F 
But unlocked it stood there,
G 
through famine and flood,
F 
G 
even through Green Apple time.
F 
Now my brother runs that outfitting house
for thirty years,
and that outhouse is still used regular,
F 
G 
F 
unlocked, I have little fear.
G 
About now, Fred says, Tom,
don't you see it's really not that big a deal,
it's just that these van
F 
dals from town'll
tear up anything that ain't handy to steal.
G 
But Tom just kept squintin' and blankin'
G 
and scratchin' his head neath his hat.
We were all on our toes to hear what he'd say next,
F 
and he's relishin' that.
F 
And he looked at the ground
he'd been towin',
said, Fred, I'd bet my good
F 
horseshoe and anvil
that in the seventy -five years
that that outhouse has stood there,
no one ever stole as much as one handful.