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Painted Ladies
(Fred Koller)

By a blackened wood stove in a run down old bunkhouse
Sat an old buckaroo with his hat in his hand
And he lowered his voice as he told me about 'em
Them wild western women that wore no man's brand

Well the old man remembered they'd drive you plum crazy
Dancin' for nickels 'neath the bar rooms oil light
We'd come off the trail and they'd be waiting for us
Them purty painted ladies in dresses so bright

Where's all the pretty painted ladies
Where's all the dance hall gals
Where are you Lil are you still young and pretty
Are you waiting for me at the end of the trail

Slowly they'd swirl with the ranchers and the wranglers
While the piano played on into the night
They'd be kickin' their skirts past the worry raw hiders
Purty painted ladies I miss you tonight

Well I told the old timer that they'd all moved on years ago
No more purty Lil no more Buffalo Sal
But he said son some nights I can see 'em
A singin' and a dancin' at the end of the trail



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