When You’re Throwed + 

If a feller’s been a-straddle + 

Since he’s big enough to ride, + 

And has had to sling his saddle + 

On most any colored hide⁠— + 

Though it’s nothin’ they take pride in, + 

Still most fellers I have knowed, + 

If they ever done much ridin’, + 

Has at different times got throwed. + 

All the boys start out together + 

For the round-up some fine day + 

When you’re due to throw your leather + 

On a little wall-eyed bay, + 

An’ he swells to beat the nation + 

When you’re cinchin’ up the slack, + 

An’ he keeps an elevation + 

In your saddle at the back. + 

He stands still with feet a-sprawlin’, + 

An’ his eye shows lots of white, + 

An’ he kinks his spinal column, + 

An’ his hide is puckered tight, + 

He starts risin’ an’ a-jumpin’, + 

An’ he strikes when you get near, + 

An’ you cuss him an’ you thump him + 

Till you get him by the ear⁠— + 

Then your right hand grabs the saddle + 

An’ you ketch your stirrup, too, + 

An’ you try to light a-straddle + 

Like a woolly buckaroo; + 

But he drops his head an’ switches, + 

Then he makes a backward jump, + 

Out of reach your stirrup twitches + 

But your right spur grabs his hump. + 

An’ “Stay with him!” shouts some feller; + 

Though you know it’s hope forlorn, + 

Yet you’ll show that you ain’t yeller + 

An’ you choke the saddle horn. + 

Then you feel one rein a-droppin’ + 

An’ you know he’s got his head; + 

An’ your shirt tail’s out an’ floppin’; + 

An’ the saddle pulls like lead. + 

Then the boys all yell together + 

Fit to make a feller sick: + 

“Hey, you short horn, drop the leather! + 

Fan his fat an’ ride him slick!” + 

Seems you’re up-side-down an’ flyin’; + 

Then your spurs begin to slip. + 

There’s no further use in tryin’, + 

For the horn flies from your grip, + 

An’ you feel a vague sensation + 

As upon the ground you roll, + 

Like a violent separation + 

’Twixt your body an’ your soul. + 

Then you roll agin a hummock + 

Where you lay an’ gasp for breath, + 

An’ there’s somethin’ grips your stomach + 

Like the finger-grips o’ death. + 

They all offers you prescriptions + 

For the grip an’ for the croup, + 

An’ they give you plain descriptions + 

How you looped the spiral loop; + 

They all swear you beat a circus + 

Or a hoochy-koochy dance, + 

Moppin’ up the canon’s surface + 

With the bosom of your pants. + 

Then you’ll get up on your trotters, + 

But you have a job to stand; + 

For the landscape round you totters + 

An’ your collar’s full o’ sand. + 

Lots of fellers give prescriptions + 

How a broncho should be rode, + 

But there’s few that gives descriptions + 

Of the times when they got throwed. + 