Listen to The Deadwood Stage (Whip Crack-Away) song with lyrics from Doris Day

The Deadwood Stage (Whip Crack-Away)

Doris Day, Howard Keel6 Sep 2010

The Deadwood Stage (Whip Crack-Away) Lyrics

The Deadwood Stage (Whip Crack-Away) - Doris Day

 

Oh the Deadwood Stage is

A-rolling on over the plains

 

With the curtains flapping

And the driver slapping the reins

 

A beautiful sky a wonderful day

 

Whip crack-away whip crack-away whip crack-away

 

Oh the Deadwood Stage is

A-heading on over the hills

 

Where the Injun arrows are

Thicker than porcupine quills

 

Dangerous land no time to delay

 

So whip crack-away whip crack-away whip crack-away

 

We're heading straight for town loaded down

With a fancy cargo care of Wells

And Fargo Illinois

 

Boy

 

Oh the Deadwood Stage is a-coming on over the crest

 

Like a homing pigeon that's a-hankering after its nest

 

Twenty-three miles we've covered today

 

So whip crack-away whip crack-away whip crack-away

 

The wheels go turning round homeward bound

Cangt you hear'em humming

 

Happy times are coming for to stay

 

Hey

 

We'll be home tonight by

The light of the silvery moon

 

And my heart's a-thumping like

A mandolin a-plunking a tune

 

When I get home I'm fixing to stay

 

So whip crack-away whip crack-away whip crack-away

 

Whip crack-away whip crack-away whip crack-away

 

Introducing Henry Miller just

As busy as a fizzy sarsparilla

 

Aingt a showman and he's smarter

Operates the Golden Garter

Where the cream of Deadwood City come to dine

 

And I'm glad to say he's a very good friend of mine

 

Hi Joe say where d'you get them fancy clothes

I know off some fella's laundry line

 

Hi Beau arengt you the Prairie Rose

Smelling like a watermelon vine

 

Here's the man the Sheriff watches

 

On his gun there's more than twenty-seven notches

 

On the draw there's no-one faster

And you're flirting with disaster

When Bill Hickok's reputation you malign

 

And I'm glad to say

He's a very good friend of a friend of mine

 

Oh my throats as dry as a desert thistle in may

 

In the Golden Garter I'm gonna wet my whistle today

 

Last to the bar is a three legged crow

 

Set'em up joe set'em up joe set'em up joe

 

Set'em up joe