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The Devil in Hell we're told was chained A thousand years he there remained He neither complain nor did he groan But was determined to start a Hell of his own Where he could torment the souls of men Without being chained in a prison pen So he asked the Lord if he had on hand Anything left when he made this land The Lord said yes there's a plenty on hand But I left it down by the Rio Grande The fact is ol' boy the stuff is so poor I don't think you could use it as the Hell anymore But the Devil went down to look at the truck And said if he took it as a gift he was stuck For after lookin' that over carefully and well He said this place is too dry for Hell But in order to get it off his hand The Lord promised the Devil to water the land So trade was closed and deed was given And the Lord went back to his home in Heaven And the Devil said now I got all what's needed To make it good Hell and he succeeded He began by putting thorns all over the trees He mixed up the sand with millions of fleas He scattered tarantulas along the road Put thorns on cactus and horns on toad Lengthened the horns of the Texas steer Put an addition to the rabbits ear Put a little Devil in the bronco steed And poisoned the feet of the centipede The rattlesnake bites you the scorpion stings The mosquito delights you with his buzzing wings The sunburst are there and so the ants And if you sit down you'll need have soles on your pants The wild boar roams on a black chaparral It's a Hell of a place that he has for a Hell The heat in the summers are hundred and ten Too hot for the Devil, too hot for men The red pepper grows upon the banks of the brook The Mexican use it in all that he cook Just dine it with one of 'em and you're bound to shout I've Hell on the inside as well as the out My hands are calloused July to July I use a big dipper to navigate by Fight off the wolves to drink from my well So I have to be, mean as Hell A sheep herder came and put up a fence I saw him one day but I ain't seen him since But if you need any mutton we got mutton to sell We're cowpunchers and we're mean as Hell Neither me nor my pony's got a pedigree But he takes me where I'm wantin' to be I'll ride him to death and when he is fell I'll get me another one, mean as Hell I shot me a calf and I cut off her head 'Cause the boys in the bunkhouse are wantin' to be fed They rise in chime with the five thirty bell And the best one of any of 'em, is mean as Hell