I've got no use for the women   A true one may seldom be found   They'll use a man for his money   When it's gone they'll turn him down   They're all alike at the bottom   Selfish and grasping for all   They'll stay by a man when he's winning   And laugh in his face when he falls      My pal was an honest young puncher   Honest and upright and true   Till he turned to a gun shooting gambler   On account of a girl named Lou   They fell in with evil companions   The kind that are better off dead   When a gambler insulted her picture   He filled him full of lead      Off in the long night they trailed him   Through misquete and thick chapperal   I couldn't help think of that woman   As I saw him pitch and fall   If she'd been the pal that she should have   He might have been rasing a son   Instead of out there on the prairie   To die by a Ranger's gun      Death's sharp sting did not trouble   His chances for life were too slim   Where they were putting his body   Was all that worried him   He lifted his head on his elbow   The blood from his wound flowed red   He gazed at his friends gathered round him   He looked up at them and he said      Bury me out on the prairie   Where the coyotes can howl o'er my grave   Bury me out on the prairie   But from them, my bones please save   Wrap me up in a blanket   Bury me deep in the ground   Cover me over with boulders   Of granite, big and brown      We buried him out on the prairie   Where the coyotes can howl o'er his grave   His soul is now a-resting   Fron the unkind cut she gave   And many another young puncher   As he rides past the pile of stones   Recalls some similar woman   And thinks of his moulderin' bones