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WHISKEY BILL,—A FRAGMENT
A
-DOWN the road and gun in hand
Comes Whiskey Bill, mad Whiskey Bill; A-lookin' for some place to land Comes Whiskey Bill An' everybody'd like to be Ten miles away behind a tree When on his joyous, aching spree Starts Whiskey Bill. The times have changed since you made love,
O Whiskey Bill, O Whiskey Bill!
The happy sun grinned up above
At Whiskey Bill.
And down the middle of the street
The sheriff comes on toe and feet
A-wishin' for one fretful peek
At Whiskey Bill.
The cows go grazing o'er the lea,—
Poor Whiskey Bill! Poor Whiskey Bill!
An' aching thoughts pour in on me
Of Whiskey Bill.
The sheriff up and found his stride;
Bill's soul went shootin' down the slide,—
How are things on the Great Divide,
O Whiskey Bill?
Anonymous. US |
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