My name is Bob FudgeI was born in TexasLampasas CountyBack during the warSmall Pox and ComanchesTook most of my familyLeft my poor motherMy brothers, my brothers and meSo I headed NorthTo ride for the BlockersThey were contractin' herdsOn the Montana rangeIn the Spring of the year '82We left ol' LampasasWith two thousand steersFor the Little Big HornCrossing our trailsThere were many great riversAll to be crossedNot a bridge would we findIn the cold rolling watersAnd the wild plunging cattleThere was many a young manTook leave of his lifeWell we crossed at Doan's StoreInto the Indian nationSaw the blood on the rocksWhere those cowboys had diedThen it's on Fort DodgeOn the Arkansas RiverWhere gamblers and the whoresAll welcomed us thereAnd the great snowcapped peaksAre on our left side nowFor many milesIn the great silent landWhen I first saw MontanaI knew I would love herI would ride her great plains'Til the end of my daysBut she's all cut-and-dry nowAnd the trails are all goneI've been to Yellowstone ParkIn an automobileBut I can still see 'em swimmingBoys, I can still hear 'em runningI came off of the trailsWhen cowboys was kingMy name is Bob FudgeI died in Montana
