<p class="tit-song">PINTO <span class="pagenum"><SPAN id="page340" name="page340"></SPAN>(p. 340)</span></p>
<p>I am a vaquero by trade;<br/>
To handle my rope I'm not afraid.<br/>
I lass' an <i>otero</i> by the two horns<br/>
Throw down the biggest that ever was born.<br/>
Whoa! Whoa! Whoa! Pinto, whoa!</p>
<p>My name to you I will not tell;<br/>
For what's the use, you know me so well.<br/>
The girls all love me, and cry<br/>
When I leave them to join the rodero.<br/>
Whoa! Whoa! Whoa! Pinto, whoa!</p>
<p>I am a vaquero, and here I reside;<br/>
Show me the broncho I cannot ride.<br/>
They say old Pinto with one split ear<br/>
Is the hardest jumping broncho on the rodero.<br/>
Whoa! Whoa! Whoa! Pinto, whoa!</p>
<p>There strayed to our camp an iron gray colt;<br/>
The boys were all fraid him so on him I bolt.<br/>
You bet I stayed with him till cheer after cheer,—<br/>
"He's the broncho twister that's on the rodero."<br/>
Whoa! Whoa! Whoa! Pinto, whoa!</p>
<p>My <span class="pagenum"><SPAN id="page341" name="page341"></SPAN>(p. 341)</span> story is ended, old Pinto is dead;<br/>
I'm going down Laredo and paint the town red.<br/>
I'm going up to Laredo and set up the beer<br/>
To all the cowboys that's on the rodero.<br/>
Whoa! Whoa! Whoa! Pinto, whoa!</p>
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