first off - the lyics to Riding the Range, written by Michael Weston King,
recorded by the Good Sons with Townes Van Zandt; inspired by the cowboys of the
gritty Lancashire town of Rochdale
secondly - the lyrics to Rochdale Cowboy - by Mike Harding, which seems to
feature in several worst record ever made lists . . .
Enjoy
Phil
RIDING THE RANGE
Well the cowboys are gathering tonight by the side of the river
They've been bussed in from east side to find their own piece of the west.
With their six-pack and six-guns, cloth caps and stetsons,
Maybe you might think it's strange
But don't worry momma, these boys are just riding the range.
All the cowgirls get branded somewhere in the back of a trailer,
It'll be same time and same place next week, just a different man
A man who is stronger, and younger, and longer,
And one who's not drunk for a change
But what can you do when these boys go out riding the range?
It's the range that they cling to, when the're out on their own
It's the range that makes them feel at home
Every night you can see them, they're fighting their own chaperone,
But every night they somehow make it home.
In the morning they're waking beneath their fish and chip paper
The story of last night is written in stains on their shirt
>From a north coastal guest house to a Tennessee road house,
Some behaviour you just can't explain,
But come Friday evening those boys are out riding the range
I said next Friday evening take me out riding the range.
ROCHDALE COWBOY
(spoken bit)
Never before in the history of mankind has the story been told of those
brave frontiers men who carved out a passage in the North West and made it a
place fit for heroes to live in
This is the story of one such man, sausage tosser extraordinar
his name Fred Ackroyd
(singing bit)
It's hard being a cowboy in Rochdale
spurs don't fit right on me clogs
yee-haa
it's hard being a cowboy in Rochdale
cause people laugh when I ride past on our Alsatian dog
Almost every night there's a tripe and cowheel fight in our local pie and
pea saloon
and poor old Uncle Fred he spent 18 months in bed cause he tried to kiss a
girl who's a boy named Sue
It's hard being a cowboy in Rochdale
spurs don't fit right on me clogs
yee-haa
it's hard being a cowboy in Rochdale
cause people laugh when I ride past on our Alsatian dog
When the sun shines in the west that's the time that I like best
and I go out punching cows with me brother Jack
and poor old Uncle Fred he spent 18 months in bed cause he punched one cow
and she went and punched him back
It's hard being a cowboy in Rochdale
spurs don't fit right on me clogs
yee-haa
it's hard being a cowboy in Rochdale
cause people laugh when I ride past on our Alsatian dog
In the local temperance bar we'd go and have a jar
there's sarsaparilla and liquorice juice to drink
and poor old Uncle Fred he spent 18 months in bed
cause he supped the stuff he used to clean the sink
It's hard being a cowboy in Rochdale
spurs don't fit right on me clogs
yee-haa
it's hard being a cowboy in Rochdale
cause people laugh when I ride past on our Alsatian dog
Yer know when us cowpokes hit town we go an 'orses round with them good time
girls Elsie and Mucky Peg
When Auntie Kitty found Uncle Fred he spent 18 months in bed
cause you can't run fast with your pants half why down your legs
[Non-text portions of this message have been removed]
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