He unhitched the wagon
And took the team off to the stringer
Since they weren't on level ground
Cooky turned the tongue around

Ol' cooky started a fire
Put some water on to boil
Stuck his nose in the breeze
Said "smells like rain to me"

So young Danny his helper
Took off to warn the drovers
To be ready, the night could go long
Cooky's nose was hardly ever wrong

He started off down the hill
A hundred feet away he hit some shale
He began to fall to the right
His pony slid, he held on tight

Danny's Colt 45 wasn't tethered
It popped up, he caught it in mid air
To his surprise the thing went off
Shot a hole in his boot, but missed his sock

The herd stampeded
Weren't no lightnin', weren't no thunder
Didn't matter 'bout the rain
Hard to believe they'd of ran away