Yippy Ty Oh Hey Hey Lyrics by Cody Johnson
Well, the wind’s too high to brand today, can’t even start a fire
It ain’t rained in three damn months, so I’m here patching this barbed wire
And I’d hate to think what’d happen if I actually starved to death
But at least my horses and my cattle won’t, I got thirty-six bales left
Yippy-ty-oh, whoa-oh-oh, hey, hey
Yippy-ty-oh, oh-oh, hey, hey
This here land was my grandpa’s until I turned sixteen
He handed it down to my daddy, who passed it down to me
And I wasted most of my youth toiling time away
Feeding Braford cows and baling coastal hay
Said yippy-ty-oh, whoa-oh-oh, hey, hey
Yippy-ty-oh, oh-oh, hey, hey
Well, this land is cut by the river, the damned ol’ trinity
When she gets to feeling mad, Lord, she sure gets deep
And there’s dirt on my girt, and blood on my saddle horn
This life, it might not be for you, but this is where I was born
Singin’ yippy-ty-oh, whoa-oh-oh, hey, hey
Yippy-ty-oh, oh-oh, hey, hey
It was the spring of 1925, a cold and cloudy day
Twelve cowboys came riding in to take this land away
Daddy grabbed a shotgun, and I grabbed a .22
And I buried all twelve men that day, and I buried daddy too
Singin’ yippy-ty-oh, whoa-oh-oh, hey, hey
Yippy-ty-oh, oh-oh, hey, hey
I married in the fall of 1933
She gave me two strong, young boys who both looked up to me
And I taught ’em how to work this land and how to read the sky
And they’ll still be here with my grandkids long after I die
Singin’ yippy-ty-oh, whoa-oh-oh, hey, hey
Well, this land is cut by the river, the damned ol’ trinity
And when she gets to feeling mad, Lord, she sure gets deep
And there’s dirt on their girts, and blood on their saddle horns
This life, it might not be for you, but this is where they were born
Singin’ yippy-ty-oh, whoa-oh-oh, hey, hey
Yippy-ty-oh, oh-oh, hey, hey
Someday soon, they’ll lay me down ‘neath that old oak tree
Point me towards the west and this is what I hope you’ll sing
Yippy-ty-oh, oh-oh, hey, hey
Yippy-ty-oh, oh-oh, hey, hey