I was broke in Wickenburg in the spring of ‘ 77.
Things were lean for buffalo and me.
So I called up Harold Munsen over Battle Mountain way
The TS wagon was pullin’ out on the fifteenth day of
May.
I was no stranger to the wagon back when I was 21,
The IL, the YP, the Circle K.
So I hocked my shoein’ outfit. We filled that Chevy’s
tank.
Gas was 50 cents a gallon in those days.
[Chorus:]
I outgrew the wagon and boy let me tell you why.
Your tipi’s like an oven at times or your bed ain’t
never dry.
It was nearly mid-November ‘fore the work was finally
due
And at fifteen below zero, you’d outrun the wagon too.
Now, don’t you misunderstand me.
There were lots of good times too.
I would not change a single memory.
Like the time we tied old Blackie up in cold Coyote
Creek.
We were young and wild, like the horses we rode.
The days stretched endlessly.
I outgrew the wagon and boy let me tell you why.
Your tipi’s like an oven at times or your bed ain’t
never dry.
It was nearly mid-November ‘fore the work was finally
due
And at fifteen below zero, you’d outrun the wagon too.