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A COWBOY'S WORRYING LOVE |
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1
UST to read in the novel books 'bout fellers
that got the prod From an arrer shot from his hidin' place by the hand o' the Cupid god,
An' I'd laugh at the cussed chumps they was a-wastin' their breath in sighs
An' gob' around with a locoed look a-campin' inside their eyes.
I've read o' the gals that broke 'em up a-sailin' in airy flight
On angel pinions above their beds as they dreampt o' the same at night,
An' a sort o' disgusted frown'd bunch the wrinkles acrost my brow,
An' I'd call 'em a lot o' sissy boys — but I'm seein' it different now.
I got the jab in my rough oF heart, an' I got it
a-plenty, too,
A center shot from a pair o' eyes of the winninest sort o' blue,
An' I ride the ranges a-sighin* sighs, as cranky as a locoed steer —
A durned heap worse than the novel blokes that the narrative gals'd queer. 59 |
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