Saturday night at the Yellow Dog Ranch
Both hands are calloused; there's holes in my pants
If I can clean up by a quarter til late, maybe Jane will be waiting at the hitch by my gate
We met in December of '79, her head full of moonshine; lips of lavender wine
She's asked me to dance. I fell to the ground
So she held me up as we turned round and round
Come all you wranglers and stand by my fire
You tell your tall stories I'll call you all liars
For the heart you hold dearest is beyond all desire
Her name is Calamity Jane
She's a long stretch of lightning (she's quicksilver son)
Hard on a man. Good with a gun
If you see me out standing at the hitch by my gate
Take no great sorrow bout my lonesome old fate
Longed all my life, it was well worth the wait
To have danced with Calamity
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