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THE OLD COWMAN
I'm not so young as I uster be, I'm somewhat gray an' wrinkledy, An' I wear my hatómy old white ható On the back o' my neck on a roll o' fat. An* I don't ride much like I uster, tho', I'm not so dog-goned gumbo slow When it comes to bronks, but yet I'll say, A buggy fer mine 'most any day.
But my heart is young, oh, my heart is young,
An' she sings the songs like she allers sung: Dealin' fair an' dealin' square, An* findin' friendship everywhere;
An' never a fear does she let slide,
Fer the day when I cross the Great Divide.
Old pards are goneóno use to care,
They've rode the trail to Overthere;
But I'll see 'em agin, well, I should shout!
To jes' shake hands fer all get out!
I've no regrets an' that's no lie,
A white man's never afeerd to die;
Old age an' death has got to be,
An', by the gods, they don't scare me!