(Jimmie Rodgers)

A way out on the wind swept desert where nature favours no man
A buffalo found his brother lyin' on the sun baked sand
He said my brother what ails you the sickness got you this way
His brother never said cause his brother was dead
He's been dead since way last May.

The big chief buffalo nickel was a mighty man in his days
He never used a sickle to clear the bushes away
He's roamed around from tent to tent heed everything in sight
He loved a squaw everyone he saw he loved a new one every night.

A way out on the wind swept desert I heard a big Indian moan
I left my kin for I knew what it meant and I swore I'd never more roam
It was dawn when I reached St Pete and my legs were certainly sore
I must've lost fifty pounds on that hot desert ground and I'd lose that many more.

The big chief buffalo nickel was a mighty man in his days
He never used a sickle to clear the bushes away
He's roamed around from tent to tent heed everything in sight
He loved a squaw everyone he saw he loved a new one every night...