We used to run a cow-ranch,
In all that old term meant,
But all our ancient glories
In recent years have went;
We’re takin’ summer boarders,
And, puttin’ it quite rude,
It’s now the cowboy’s province
To herd the festive dude.

We used to run an outfit,
The greatest in the West;
Our cowboys were the wonders —
Our roundups were the best;
The punchers still are with us,
But now they merely guide
The tenderfoot from Boston
Who’s learnin’ how to ride.

We used to brand our cattle
And ship ‘em wide and far;
But now we import humans
From off the Pullman car;
The dudes have got us captures
And tied and branded, too;
And the cowboy’s readin’ Ibsen
When his daily toil is through.