Ola Belle Reed
Ola Belle Reed
Ola Belle Reed
Ola Belle Reed
Ola Belle Reed
Ola Belle Reed
Ola Belle Reed
Ola Belle Reed
Ola Belle Reed
Ola Belle Reed
Ola Belle Reed
Ola Belle Reed
Ola Belle Reed
Ola Belle Reed
Ola Belle Reed
Ola Belle Reed
Ola Belle Reed
Ola Belle Reed
Ola Belle Reed
There was a little girlie who lived on the plain
She would help me herd cattle in the slow, steady rain
She would help me herd cattle the whole year and roundup
She would take a drink with me from a cold, bitter cup
Now, the Indians broke on us in the midst of the night
We arose from our warm bed those Indians to fight
Now, loud roared the thunder and down poured the rain
In came a stray bullet and it dashed out her brain
I hoppеd in my saddle with a gun in each hand
Come all yе gay cowboys, let's win this fair land
Come all ye gay cowboys, for tonight we may die
For the Indians have murdered my own darling wife