| Never was a finer breed than the steed who was Shamrock
|
| Plain to see by his confirmation that he came from finest stock
|
| Daddy was black mammoth jack, mama was a thoroughbred mare
|
| Had four white feet on a buckskin coat, blonde mohawk in his hair
|
| Stood about 19 hands, didn’t need no kick to go
|
| With ol' Dood up top, deep in the saddle, hollering
|
| Whoa, boy, whoa
|
| Whoa, boy, whoa
|
| Only ever had one rider, anyone else was gettin' bucked
|
| Cross any kind of land, through the rain, snow, and muck
|
| Surefooted as a billy goat, with 33 inch ears
|
| Clog dance on a snake with his front two feet, give coyotes the rear
|
| Kick so hard it’ll send 'em up and out the stratosphere
|
| Make a coyote fly so far, it wouldn’t land until next year
|
| From the hightop to the holler, no place Sham can’t go
|
| With ol' Dood up top, deep in the saddle, hollering
|
| Whoa, boy, whoa
|
| Whoa, boy, whoa
|
| Ain’t scared to cross that river, jump clear across that crick
|
| Steed don’t need no shoes when his hooves is one foot thick
|
| Leather and tack can’t hold him back, he’ll bite right through a bit
|
| Rope bridle made of mooring line was the only thing that’d fit
|
| Hot on the bandits trail, fence posting through the snow
|
| Ol' Dood up top, high in the saddle, hollering
|
| Go, boy, go
|
| Go, boy, go
|
| Go, boy, go
|
| Go, boy, go |