It all looked a lot like this…
With thanks to Nick Eggenhoffer
The Legend of Borax Charlie
The air turned blue,
the sky turned black,
buzzards staggered as they flew,
Borax Charlie cussed his mules to hell,
it was the only way they knew.
Take the traces up,
strain the chains,
roll the wagons straight and true,
we’ve one hundred sixty miles to go,
the borax must get through.
Two lonely men,
two stout horses on the wheels,
forty-five thousand pounds of Borax,
Hell’s own desert at their heels.
Mules jump the chains
to turn the curves,
men pray the brakes hold on the hills,
twenty days of sweat and strain
for two hundred dollar bills.
When the tired team
reached the town,
the time to rest had come,
Borax Charlie had spree
and he wrestled the Demon Rum.
This Sky Pilot
then came along
and said swearing was a sin
he told Borax Charlie he’d end in Hell
if he swore at the mules again.