| The devil in hell we’re told was chained a thousand years he there remained
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| He neither complain nor did he groan but was determined to start a hell of his
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| own
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| Where he could torment the souls of men without being chained in a prison pen
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| So he asked the Lord if he had on hand anything left when he made this land
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| The Lord said yes there’s a plenty of hand but if I left it down by the Rio
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| Grande
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| The fact is ol' boy the stuff is so poor
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| I don’t think you could use it as the hell anymore
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| But the devil went down to look at the truck
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| And said if he took it as a gift he was stuck
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| For after lookin' that over carefully and well he said this place is too dry
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| for hell
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| But in order to get it off his hand the Lord promised the devil to water the
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| land
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| So trade was closed and deed was given and the Lord went back to his home in
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| heaven
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| And the devil said now I got all what’s needed to make it good hell and he
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| succeeded
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| He began by putting thorns all over the trees
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| He mixed up the sand with millions of fleas
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| He scattered tarantulas along the road put thorns on cactus and horns on toad
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| Lengthened the horns of the Texas steer put an addition to the rabbits ear
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| Put a little devil in the bronco steed and poisoned the feet of the centipede
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| The rattlesnake bites you the scorpion stings
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| The mosquito delights you with his buzzing wings
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| The sunburst are there and so the ants
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| And if you sit down you’ll need have soles on your pants
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| The wild boar rooms on a black chaparral it’s a hell of a place that he has for
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| hell
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| The heat in the summers are hundred and ten too hot for the devil too hot for
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| men
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| The red pepper grows upon the banks of the brook
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| The Mexican use it in all that he cook
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| Just dine it with one of 'em and you’re bound to shout
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| I’ve hell on the inside as well as it out
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| My hands are calloused July to July I use a Big Dipper to navigate by
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| Fight off the wolves to drink from my well so I have to be mean as hell
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| A sheep herder came and put up the fence
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| I saw him one day but I ain’t seen him since
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| But if you’re needin' mutton we’ve got mutton to sell
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| We’re cowpunchers and we’re mean as hell
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| Neither me nor my pony’s got a pedigree but he takes me where I’m wantin' to be
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| I’ll ride him to death and when he is fell I’ll get me another one mean as hell
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| I shot me a calf and I cut off her head
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| Cause the boys in the bunkhouse are waitin' to be fed
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| They rise in chime with the five thirty bell
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| And the best one of any of 'em is mean as hell |