3x-xx-xx ep11 First Song - Little Green Valley

I don't eat in Arizona. I'm the king of the Rangers. No ties or peters, have I. No walls of a house, my vision. For I live all thunder the sky. The wide open space is my doorway.

The spalls of my laps overhead. And when I go tired and weary, I use saddle and grass for my bed. Oh, get the beat off, we'll let the rangers fight for you. You, Curly, you've been having some rough weather.

Huh? You're putting it mild. I've been in a regular hurricane all day. Well, what's the ruckus, Curly? You've been practicing bulldogging? Well, it's not been trying to break that new mule in for dynamite. And of all the Ken tankers, because of you ever saw...

Sort of slippery, huh? Yeah, grease pig paint in it. Kit, bite, buck, and then roll on you to boot. I'd like to see Tyler might get on him. We'll get before he does, get him to lay in a week's supplier cook grub, because it'll be good-bye camp cook for a week.

Well, let's play curly and ice-tune boys. Maybe that'll take some of the soreness out of him, eh? Come on, let's try. Look how folks got your good manners on because the boys is riding in with a herd of friends.

Why didn't you tell us it's a ball so we could slick up? Well, they'd done no good. They could still tell you were a cow-head. You were a cow head. I don't see how when I'm dressed up.

All they got to do is look at your legs. See, what's the matter with my legs? Nothing except that they look like a pair of discarded ice toes. Come on, come on. I pump yourself on a hold.