Text: Woody Guthrie. Other. Circle Of Truth.

Gang around me you cowpunks, and hear my sad wall
'Bout that battle had on the Triple Six Trail;
I got sick of the blabber of my dirty mouth boss.
From his Triple Six cow camp I fann'd my good hoss.

I rode several days and I camped several nights,
My tailbone got blistered and the toeflies did bite!
I splashed a sand river both shivery and cold,
I swum for an hour, then I pulled on my duds.

As I lay like a lizard to bake in that sun,
A young Indian girl from her corn field she run;
She rolled and she cried till I thought she might die,
So I pulled out my shirt tall and dried both her eyes.

She then took her finger and wrote in the sand:
My father must wed me to some older man!
I drew her my circle of truth on the ground.
Told her: You can ride with me to the place that I'm bound.

That night 'round our firehole she told me again:
He's a rich, mighty landlord and he owns all these lands!
That night 'round our firehole his tracker did come,
And we dug us a low ditch to hide from their guns.

I had just one pistol, all rusty and old,
I fired at their gunsparks that flashed in the dark.
She pulled an old fourshot from under her dress
And she fired with both fingers and mostly by guess.

His tracker thugs run when they seen we had guns
Back to that old moneybag, sayin' they'd blowed us down.
We rigged up my pony and the river did swim,
I felt her warm body while she laughed at him.

We chunked up a fire on this opposite shore
As I held her and warmed her and I kissed her some more.
His gooners will draw pay for shooting us down!
And here I am going to this place that you're bound!

I drew her my circle of truth on the ground,
Baby, this is the spot where I'm sure that I'm bound.
Yes, she drew her cross on my ring that went 'round:
I'm glad that we've come to the spot where we're bound!