The devil in hell we're told was chained a thousand years he there remainedHe neither complain nor did he groan but was determined to start a hell of his ownWhere he could torment the souls of men without being chained in a prison penSo he asked the Lord if he had on hand anything left when he made this landThe Lord said yes there's a plenty of hand but if I left it down by the Rio GrandeThe fact is ol' boy the stuff is so poorI don't think you could use it as the hell anymoreBut the devil went down to look at the truckAnd said if he took it as a gift he was stuckFor after lookin' that over carefully and well he said this place is too dry for hellBut in order to get it off his hand the Lord promised the devil to water the landSo trade was closed and deed was given and the Lord went back to his home in heavenAnd the devil said now I got all what's needed to make it good hell and he succeededHe began by putting thorns all over the treesHe mixed up the sand with millions of fleasHe scattered tarantulas along the road put thorns on cactus and horns on toadLengthened the horns of the Texas steer put an addition to the rabbits earPut a little devil in the bronco steed and poisoned the feet of the centipedeThe rattlesnake bites you the scorpion stingsThe mosquito delights you with his buzzing wingsThe sunburst are there and so the antsAnd if you sit down you'll need have soles on your pantsThe wild boar rooms on a black chaparral it's a hell of a place that he has for hellThe heat in the summers are hundred and ten too hot for the devil too hot for menThe red pepper grows upon the banks of the brookThe Mexican use it in all that he cookJust dine it with one of 'em and you're bound to shoutI've hell on the inside as well as it outMy hands are calloused July to July I use a Big Dipper to navigate byFight off the wolves to drink from my well so I have to be mean as hellA sheep herder came and put up the fenceI saw him one day but I ain't seen him sinceBut if you're needin' mutton we've got mutton to sellWe're cowpunchers and we're mean as hellNeither me nor my pony's got a pedigree but he takes me where I'm wantin' to beI'll ride him to death and when he is fell I'll get me another one mean as hellI shot me a calf and I cut off her headCause the boys in the bunkhouse are waitin' to be fedThey rise in chime with the five thirty bellAnd the best one of any of 'em is mean as hell
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