| Share page | Visit Us On FB |
|
|
|||
|
ON THE DODGE |
123 |
||
|
|
|||
|
I see de tethers in ole turkey's tail, all turned en
pointin' west, En I see a crippled dog down in de lane; De sittin' hens 'bout twelve o'clock has all done
quit de nests, — Dey's gwine ter be some trouble soon again.
De bees is buzzin' awful loud down in de gums ter-
day; Dat ole houn' dog ain't never moved sense noon; Believe me, Marster Robert, de signs es pointin'
right, Dat der's gwine ter be some trouble mighty soon.
I see dat front door open when der warn't no one
about, Der smoke blow back from de chimbley in de room, En I sees dat rockin'-chair commence ter rock
alone — Yes, dere's gwine ter be some trouble mighty soon.
ON THE DODGE By N. Howard Thorp ■Well, old horse, you've brought me 'cross the line, There's a sheriff's posse ridin' close behind, But they'll not cross the Boca Grande, The Ru-ra-les are too handy, And here's one Gringo that they'll never find.
Chorus I don't see why they can't leave me alone, I'd love to be back in my happy home! |
|||
|
|
|||