En.Citatepedia^®.ro

Cattle Call

(tex owens)
Woo - hoo - woo - ooo - ti - de
Woo - hoo - ooo - oop - I - de - de
Woo - hoo - woo - ooo - ti - de
Yod-el - od-el- lo - ti - de.
The cattle are prowlin the coyotes are howlin
Way out where the dogies bawl
Where spurs are a-jinglin, a cowboy is singin
This lonesome cattle call.
He rides in the sun til his days work is done
And he rounds up the cattle each fall
Woo - hoo - woo - ooo - ti - de
Singin his cattle call.
For hours he will ride on the range far and wide
When the night winds blow up a squall
His heart is a feather in all kinds of weather
He sings his cattle call.
Hes brown as a berry from ridin the prairie
And he sings with an ol western drawl
Woo - hoo - woo - ooo - ti - de
Singin his cattle call.

song performed by by Emmylou Harris
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!

Cattle Call

Cattle Call
(sung by Elvis in concerts of the 1950s)
[In der mir vorliegenden Version summt er nur die Melodie.]
(Tex Owens)
The cattle are prowlin' and the coyotes are howlin'
Way out where the dogies bawl
Where spurs are a-jinglin' a cowboy is singin'
This lonesome cattle call
Woo-hoo woo-hoo hoo hoo
Woo-hoo woo-hoo hoo hoo
Woo-hoo woo-hoo hoo hoo hoo
Woo-hoo woo-hoo hoo
He rides in the sun, till his days work is done
And he rounds up the cattle each fall
Woo-hoo woo-hoo hoo hoo
Singin' his cattle call.
For hours he will ride on the range far and wide
When the night wind blows up a squall
His heart is a feather in all kinds of weather
He sings his cattle call
Woo-hoo woo-hoo hoo hoo
Woo-hoo woo-hoo hoo hoo
Woo-hoo woo-hoo hoo hoo hoo
Woo-hoo woo-hoo hoo
He's brown as a berry from ridin' the prairie
And sings with an ol' western drawl
Woo-hoo woo-hoo hoo hoo
Singin' his cattle call

song performed by by Elvis Presley
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!

Cattle Call (feat. Eddy Arnold)

[LEANN]
[Yodels]
The cattle are prowlin'
The coyotes are howlin'
Way out where the doggies roam
Where the spurs are a jinglin'
And the cowboy is singin'
His lonesome cattle call
[Yodels]
He rides in the sun
'Til his days work is done,
And he rounds up the cattle each fall
[Yodels]
Singing his cattle call
[EDDY]
For hours he would ride
On the range far and wide
When the night winds blows up like smoke
His heart is a feather
In all kinds of weather
He sings his cattle call
[Yodels]
He's browned as a fairy
From riding the prairie
And he sings with an old western drawl
[Yodels]
Singin' his cattle call

song performed by by LeAnn Rimes
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!

Cattle Call

[LEANN]

[Yodels]

The cattle are prowlin'
The coyotes are howlin'
Way out where the doggies roam
Where the spurs are a jinglin'
And the cowboy is singin'
His lonesome cattle call

[Yodels]

He rides in the sun
'Til his days work is done

song performed by by LeAnn Rimes from Blue
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!

The Sands Of Dee

"O Mary, go and call the cattle home,
And call the cattle home,
And call the cattle home
Across the sands of Dee";
The western wind was wild and dank with foam,
And all alone went she.

The western tide crept up along the sand,
And o'er and o'er the sand,
And round and round the sand,
As far as eye could see.
The rolling mist came down and hid the land:
And never home came she.

"Oh! is it weed, or fish, or floating hair--
A tress of golden hair,
A drownèd maiden's hair
Above the nets at sea?
Was never salmon yet that shone so fair
Among the stakes on Dee."

They rowed her in across the rolling foam,
The cruel crawling foam,
The cruel hungry foam,
To her grave beside the sea:
But still the boatmen hear her call the cattle home
Across the sands of Dee.

poem by Charles Kingsley
Submitted by Dan Costinaş
Vote! | Copy! | In Romanian

Old Joe The Black Cattle Dog

Old Joe the black cattle dog has known a better day
Around his jaws he is looking rather gray
He still works cattle but at a much slower pace
A young dog is being trained to take his place,
Old Joe a great cattle dog from a great working line
Is getting old for working cattle at nine
Though still keen to work nowadays he easily tire
The old legs tiring though he still has the desire
To work at cattle but his owner Jimmy say
That Joe is nearing his final working day
He will retire him he has done enough
At his age working cattle for him is too tough
He was a renowned working dog in his prime
But dog and master must bow to father time.

poem by Francis Duggan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

All Hat, No Cattle

(roger brown/tommy conners)
See that boy standing there by the dance floor
Hes lookin like the marlboro man
Starched shirt, starched jeans, big trophy buckle
And an empty copenhagen can
Hes talkin cowboy this and cowboy that
Well Ill bet one things for sure
The only stampede that hes ever seen
Is the clearance at the western store
All hat and no cattle, that boy just aint real
All boots and no saddle, dont know how to make a cowgirl feel
Think Im gonna tell him to pack up his act
And go back where he came from
cause all hat and no cattle aint gonna get it done
Hes just a smooth-talkin, long-tall slow-walkin
Srugstore-made-up dude
So honey dont you fall for that fake texas drawl
He aint right for you
What you needs a man that aint just a hat stand
When you get him home
Well, I dont look like much, but I can sure saddle up
And ride with you all night long
All nat and no cattle, that boy just aint real
All boots and no saddle, dont know how to make a cowgirl feel
Think Im gonna tell him to pack up his act
And go back where he came from
cause all hat and no cattle aint gonna get it done
All hat and no cattle aint gonna get it done

song performed by by Trace Adkins
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!

The Cowboy

The Cowboy

In Texas they love football and cowboys, not your ordinary
cowboys mind, the ones who herd the cattle to slaughter,
but those who walk tall in local towns and own an oil well
or two. Real cowboys are usually black or Mexicans, low
paid and smell of cattle and dust; and when the cows are
delivered to the abattoir drink lone star beer, chew tobacco
and get arrested. Real cowboys dress in fancy costumes look
a bit effeminate, when drunk on whisky ride an artificial bull
and fall off to great applause from adoring female fans who
think those ridiculous pseudo heroes are for real.
In Texas they call it Americana, have a governor who gladly
condemn people to death, western tradition- hang them high-.
When Illusion overtakes overtake truths mainly because veracity
is boring, after all a cowboy is a cattle herder and reality lacks
the romance of a pearly studded dud.

poem by Oskar Hansen
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

Cow Cow Boogie

Out on the plains down near Santa Fe
I met a cowboy ridin' the range one day
And as he jogged along I heard him singin'
The most peculiar cowboy song
It was a ditty, he learned in the city
Comma ti yi yi yeah
Comma ti yippity yi yeah
Now get along, get hip little doggies
Get along, better be on your way
Get along, get hip little doggies
He trucked 'em on down that old fairway
Singin' his Cow Cow Boogie in the strangest way
Comma ti yi yi yeah
Comma ti yippity yi yeah
(Chorus)
Now singin' his cowboy songs
He's just too much
He's got a knocked out western accent with a dixie
touch
He was raised on local ways
He's what you call a swingin' half breed
Singin' his Cow Cow Booogie in the strangest way
Comma ti yi yi yeah
Comma ti yippity yi yeah
(Repeat Chorus)

song performed by by Ella Fitzgerald
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!

But if cattle and horses or lions had hands, or were able to draw with their hands and do the work that men can do, horses would draw the forms of the gods like horses, and cattle like cattle, and they would make their bodies such as they each had themselves.

quote by Xenophanes
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!

Cuppacumalonga

'Rover, rover, cattle-drover, where go you to-day?'
I go to Cuppacumalomga, fifty miles away;
Over plains where Summer rains have sung a song of glee,
Over hills where laughing rills go seeking for the sea,
I go to Cuppacumalonga, to my brother Bill.
Then come along, ah, come along!
Ah, come to Cuppacumalonga!
Come to Cuppacumalonga Hill!

'Rover, rover, cattle-drover, how do you get there?'
For twenty miles I amble on upon my pony mare,
The walk awhile and talk awhile to country men I know,
Then up to ride a mile beside a team that travels slow,
And last to Cuppacumalonga, riding with a will.
Then come along, ah, come along!
Ah, come to Cuppacumalonga!
Come to Cuppacumalonga Hill!

'Rover, rover, cattle-drover, what do you do then?'
I camp beneath a kurrajong with three good cattle-men;
Then off away at break of day, with strong hands on the reins,
To laugh and sing while mustering the cattle on the plains -
For up to Cuppacumalonga life is jolly still.
Then come along, ah, come along!
Ah, come to Cuppacumalonga!
Come to Cuppacumalonga Hill!

'Rover, rover, cattle-drover, how may I go too?'
I'll saddle up my creamy colt and he shall carry you -
My creamy colt who will not bolt, who does not shy nor kick -
We'll pack the load and take the road and travel very quick.
And if the day brings work or play we'll meet it with a will.
So Hi for Cuppacumalonga!
Come Along, ah, come along!
Ah, come to Cuppacumalonga Hill!

poem by Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

The white men told lies for each other. They drove off a great many of our cattle. Some branded our young cattle so they could claim them.

quote by Chief Joseph
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!

Our revered Cattle

In our country oxen are used to plough,
And man declares, "the animals, we love"!
After harvest man gathers the grains to eat,
And offers the hay to the animal as a treat.

Man collects the cotton from the tree,
And the seeds he presents to the cattle for free.
Before cooking the grains he washes it with water,
And that is the cattle's drinking water.

Their milk meant for the calves are for man,
And he produces milk products as much as he can;
From it he makes yoghurt and sells it in a can,
He stirs the milk and retrieves butter on a pan.

When butter is melt, the aromatic ghee is got,
With ghee, delicious sweets are made and brought;
In villages cow-dung cakes are largely used,
With which glowing fire is instantly infused.

Cow-dung aids in the cleaning the floor off bacteria—
So are the many merits of cattle—is man's idea!
Man, the human is of no use to the cattle,
But they willingly serve us—let us revere the cattle!

poem by Chandra Thiagarajan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

The Maranoa Drovers

The night is dark and stormy, and the sky is clouded o'er;
Our horses we will mount and ride away,
To watch the squatters' cattle through the darkness of the night,
And we'll keep them on the camp till break of day.

For we're going, going, going to Gunnedah so far,
And we'll soon be into sunny New South Wales;
We shall bid farewell to Queensland, with its swampy coolibah
Happy drovers from the sandy Maranoa.

When the fires are burning bright through the darkness of the night,
And the cattle camping quiet, well, I'm sure
That I wish for two o'clock when I call the other watch
This is droving from the sandy Maranoa.

Our beds made on the ground, we are sleeping all so sound
When we're wakened by the distant thunder's roar,
And the lightning's vivid flash, followed by an awful crash
It's rough on drovers from the sandy Maranoa.
We are up at break of day, and we're all soon on the way,
For we always have to go ten miles or more;
It don't do to loaf about, or the squatter will come out
He's strict on drovers from the sandy Maranoa.

We shall soon be on the Moonie, and we'll cross the Barwon, too;
Then we'll be out upon the rolling plains once more;
We'll shout "Hurrah! for old Queensland, with its swampy coolibah,
And the cattle that come off the Maranoa."

poem by Andrew Barton Paterson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

Llano Vaqueros

Padilla unloads mangy herd of Mexican
cattle in the field.
Meaner, horns long and sharp
for bloody battle, lean from a diet
of prairie weed, looking more
like cattle did years ago
on the plains
than cattle now–
sluggish, pampered globs
stalled year round
for State Fair Judges to admire,
stall-salon dolls, hooves manicured
and polished, hide-hair blow-dried, lips
and lashes waxed.
I ride down the dirt road
on Sunshine (my bay mare)
and she smarts
away from their disdainful glare–
come in, try to lasso us,
try to comb our hair.
I admire my ancestors, llano vaqueros,
who flicked a home-made cigarette in dust,
spit in scuffed gloves, grabbed one
by the horns, wrestled it down,
branded it, with the same pleasure
they enjoyed in a bunk-house brawl.

poem by Jimmy Santiago Baca
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

Christmas For Cowboys

Tall in the saddle, we spend christmas day, driving the cattle on the snow
Covered-plains.
All of the good gifts given today, ours is the sky and the wide open range.
Back in the city they have different ways, football and eggnog and christmas
Parades.
Ill take the blanket, Ill take the reins, christmas for cowboys and wide-open
Plains.
A campfire for warmth as we stop for the night, the stars overhead are
Christmas tree lights.
The wind sings a hymn as we bow down to pray, christmas for cowboys and
Wide-open plains.
Tall in the saddle we spend christmas day, driving the cattle on the
Snow-covered plains.
So many gifts have been opened today, ours is the sky and the wide open range.
Its christmas for cowboys and wide open plains.

song performed by by John Denver
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!

Love and Slaughter

Sheep are by a goat while
cattle are like swine, prodded, yet
cattle go by hammer while
swine are by the hind leg hung
then swung about to spigot.
Quicker, infinitely cleaner, is
the hacksaw of sweet Susan's laughter.

poem by Donal Mahoney
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

Computer Cowboy

Well, his cattle each have numbers
And they all eat in a line
When he turns the floodlights on each night
Of course the herd looks perfect!
Computer cowboy.
Well, he rides the range 'til midnight
And the wild coyotes yowl
As he trots beneath the floodlights
And of course the rhythm is perfect!
Computer cowboy.
Ride along computer cowboy
To the city just in time
To bring another system down
And leave your alias behind:
Computer syscrusher.
Computer syscrusher.
Crusher. syscrusher.
Syscrusher.
Come a ky ky yippee yi yippee yi ay
Come a ky ky yippee yi ay.
Come a ky ky yippee yi yippee yi ay
Come a ky ky yippee yi ay.
Computer syscrusher.

song performed by by Neil Young
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!

Computer Cowboy (a.k.a. Skycrusher)

Well, his cattle each have numbers
And they all eat in a line
When he turns the floodlights on each night
Of course the herd looks perfect!
Computer Cowboy.
Well, he rides the range 'til midnight
And the wild coyotes yowl
As he trots beneath the floodlights
And of course the rhythm is perfect!
Computer Cowboy.
Ride along computer cowboy
To the city just in time
To bring another system down
And leave your alias behind:
Computer syscrusher.
Computer syscrusher.
Crusher. Syscrusher.
Syscrusher.
Come a ky ky yippee yi yippee yi ay
Come a ky ky yippee yi ay.
Come a ky ky yippee yi yippee yi ay
Come a ky ky yippee yi ay.
Computer syscrusher.

song performed by by Neil Young
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!

American Wild West: Cattle Rustlers

there was a time
in American history
when cattle rustlers
were shot or hung

stealing beef on the hoof
hot irons changing brands
fast rustled up retribution
justice from a rope hung

there was a time
in American history
when cruel range wars
were fought with guns

settlers driven off farmland
starved their crops ruined
their homes stolen burned
cattle grazed homesteaders

land cattle barons prospered
water rights grazing rights
unfenced unowned range land
farmers ranchers fought wars

frontier justice lynchings
local residents fought
gunmen hired bought
no weak law range wars

poem by Terence George Craddock
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

The answer has to be sought in the material conditions of the production and utilization of cattle in India compared with the production and utilization of cattle in other parts of the world.

quote by Marvin Harris
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!