Bob Wills - Across the alley from the alamo

^CAcross the alley from the Alamo lived a pinto pony and a Navajo. ^G7Who sang a sort of Indian Hi-de-ho to the ^Dm7people ^G7passing ^Cby. The ^Cpinto spent his time a swishing flies. The Navajo watched the lazy skies. ^G7Very rarely did they ever rest their eyes on the ^Dm7people ^G7passing ^Cby. One ^Fday they went a ^Cwalkin' al^Fong the railroad ^Ctrack. They were ^D7swishing' not ^Amlookin' Toot ^D7toot, they never came ^G7back. ^CAcross the alley from the Alamo when the summer sun decides to settle low, a ^G7fly sings an Indian Hideho to the ^Dm7people ^G7passing ^Cby.

^CAcross the alley from the Alamo lived a pinto pony and a Navajo, who ^G7used to bake frijoles in cornmeal dough for the ^Dm7people ^G7passing ^Cby. They ^Cthought that they would make some easy bucks i^Cf they washed their frijoles in Duz and Lux. A ^G7pair of very conscientious clucks to the ^Dm7people ^G7passing ^Cby. Then they ^Ftook this cheap ^Cvacation. Their ^Fshoes were polished ^Cbright. No they ^D7never heard the w^Amhistle. Toot ^D7Toot, they're clear out of ^G7sight. ^CAcross the alley from the Alamo, ^Cwhen the starlight beams its tender tender glow, the ^G7beams go to sleep and there ain't no dough for the ^Dm7people ^G7passing ^Cby. ^CAcross the ^G7Alley From The ^CAlamo