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Cowboy Lyrics |
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ROOBIYAT OF PIGIN-TOED PETE (A Fragment from the Files of the Lariet Lyre)
I
Hain't Life queer? To me she seems Jes' like a string of locoed dreams That toiler trails that lead nowhere, An' so I says, "Don't fuss or cry or care,"
II
All happiness is but passin'; 'tennyrate, Such be the crool words o' Fate; You meets it fer a minit by the trail, Then some one ties a tin can to its tail.
Ill
What crave I? 'Tain't nothin' much— A flap-jack an' a jug o* such Nose-paint as them godiets swig, perchance, An' you beside me at a country dance. |
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