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The State of Arkansaw
His hair hung down in strings over his long and lantern jaw,—
He was a photograph of all the gents who lived in Arkansaw.
He fed me on corn dodgers as hard as any rock, Until my teeth began to loosen and my knees began
to knock; I got so thin on sassafras tea I could hide behind a
straw, And indeed I was a different man when I left old
Arkansaw.
Farewell to swamp angels, cane brakes, and chills; Farewell to sage and sassafras and corn dodger pills. If ever I see this land again, I'll give to you my paw; It will be through a telescope from here to Arkansaw. |
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