By a blackened wood stove in a rundown old bunkhouse
Sat an old buckaroo with his hat in his hand
He lowered his voice as he told us about 'em
The wild western women that wore no man's brand
He remembered how they'd drive you plum crazy
Dancing for nickels 'neath the barroom's oil lights
We'd come off the trail, they'd be waiting for us
Pretty painted ladies in dresses so bright
Where are all the pretty painted ladies?
Where's all my dance hall gals?
Where are you, Lil, are you still young and pretty
And a waiting for me at the end of my trail?
Slowly they'd swirl with the ranchers and wranglers
While the piano played on into the night
Just a kicking their skirts past the lonely rawhiders
Pretty painted ladies, I miss you tonight
I told the old timer they moved off a long time ago
Ain't no more pretty Lil, old man, no Buffalo Sal
He said, "Son, some nights I can see them
Just a singing and a dancing at the end of my trail"
Where are all the pretty painted ladies?
Where's all my dance hall gals?
Where are you, Lil, are you still young and pretty
And a waiting for me at the end of my trail?
