Aberdeen Lyrics

Late July was hot and mean

Oh, what a time for Aberdeen

Who every morning without fail

Would listen for his cowboy's hail

That whistle was his favorite sound

Then in between and all around

The thunderous galloping feet

Like steel-shod hammers that could beat

Sand to glass and dirt to clay

That boy went running every day

His tongue would taste the air with joy

He loved his cowboy's, "Attaboy

He'd eat vermin, drink from lakes

And sniff out dens of rattlesnakes

That seemed to have a taste for man

Along his spine the fur would stand

A growl would issue from his gut

Then from the crew a horse would cut

With cowboy and kerosene

The smoke would turn a misty green

And seem to rise into the sun

While on they'd ride, and on he'd run

On they'd ride, and on he'd run

On they'd ride, and on he'd run

Late July was hot and mean

Oh, what a time for Aberdeen

It was a damn fine time for Aberdeen