The Ponderosa

Ben Cartwright owns this country
Keep those gypsys off my place Hoss
And Little Joe stop dancing
Hoss your just fat
Damn they took my water rights
There comes another train
I have to buy a steamboat
The Ponderosa is right over those mountains.

Ben and Jo and the Tahoe

Oh Hell,
Ben Cartwright has been shot in the leg
Little Jo get the posse together
The man was danger
His brother was trouble
In the wild Nevada wind he travels
Ben stay at your Poderosa
Buy a steamboat
And ride around Lake Tahoe.

Little Joe with Broken Arrow

Oh your pain Little Joe
Arrow in your breast
From a wild Commanche Moon
Your wild pinto rides
Into the barren ground
Leave the whisky in the wagon
I need it not
The pain will be the pain
Arrow in my heart
From the wild Commanche Moon.

Hoss Wrestles the Gypsy

Im fixing to go into town Pa
Dont put no coffee on
Hoss is a big man
A mighty big man
Wrestling in the desert
With a gypsy man
Damn the dust is heavy
I cant see my horse Hoss
I cant see my horse
The gypsy yells.

Little Jo and Hoss Surrounded

They done worked up a hate last night
A mob has formed up the creek
They will be here by noon
Lock those two in the old prison
Aint nothing gonna be left of this town
If that mob works up a good hate
This is a bitter pill
It sure is Little Jo, it sure is.
Send for the Doc.

Big Hat Cowboy Man

Big hat cowboy man
Ride the range slowly
There are bandits here.
Hide behind desolate rocks
Fire your rifle and pistol
Until the bullets are gone
Then wait for the Little Joe to save you.
Hoss you are a rugged one
With a large hat
Tell Hopsing I will be late for dinner.
Tell Pa Im close to an ambush.

Little Green Jacket

Little Joe with his bright green jacket
With his speckled pinto he rides
Into the western sky
Looking for a lost calf
Searching for water to drink
The thirst.
Oh the thirst.
Where is my brother Hoss?
There is a gypsy every mile.

Tired of Zombies

The Zombie poems will end today at 2:37pm
Everyone is singing Zombie Christmas songs
It is just to much.
We will switch to poems about Bonanza instead.
Hoss, Adam, Little Joe, and Ben Cartwright
We will not leave out Hopsing and Candy
All your favorite Bonanza poems to come
Tune in and drink coffee.

False Zombie #3

False zombie #3
Outside my cold Russian window
Near the spring house
There he is traveling
Close to the warm waters
The snow is forty feet deep
There is no rain
Zombie oh, leave this place
Go to the Artic
Take a hyperactive pill
And hide away from me.

Bigfoot Running Through a Slue

They call him Bigfoot
The slue dweller
He does not fear the zombie
He is on his journey
Since his home was cut away
His tracks will not be found
Mud quickly covers them here
He is only known for his yell
His yell of anguish
That the zombie is always on his trail.