Hold That Critter Down

It’s roundup time and the weather’s fine

And the strays must all be branded.

The irons fry and the dogies cry

But the old man has commanded.

So all day long I sing this song,

“Hold that critter down!”

Hold him down, burn his hide.

There’s extra pay for every day

So hold that critter down.

Burn his hide! Hold him down!

When the sun goes down and the moon comes ‘round

To the old cook shack we’re headin’.

We’ll throw the pie in the Chink cook’s eye

And tie him up in his beddin’.

And make him run to the tune of a gun

So hold that critter down.

Hold him down, burn his hide.

There’s extra pay for every day

So hold that critter down.

Burn his hide! Hold him down!

I’ll head for town when the boss comes ‘round

With the back pay that he owes me.

Get drunk as sin with my old pal, Jim,

And land where the bouncer throws me.

Then bet him ten he can’t do it again

So hold that critter down.

Hold him down, burn his hide.

There’s extra pay for every day

So hold that critter down.

Burn his hide! Hold him down!

Back next day with ten minute’s pay

Left from the cheque that I drew.

The boss said, “Son, you’re a son of a gun

But I wish that I was like you.”

So I’ll burn hair for next month’s tear

And hold that critter down!

Hold him down, burn his hide.

There’s extra pay for every day

So hold that critter down.

Burn his hide! Hold him down!

I got him down, now burn his hide.

For permission to record Bob Nolan's music, contact: The Songwriter’s Guild of America

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