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Cowboy Lyrics |
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HER HANDS
As to her hands, say, they's sure fine; One time she let them lay in mine— All soft an' clingy-like they were, Them little velvet hands o' her; An' once she set my heart apace By pressin' one agin my face. On heaven-talk I hain't much flush, Nor is I long on love-sick slush, But still I'll say her little hand Can pint the trail to Happy Land.
I wish sometimes I'd have a fight, An' not get killed, but shot up right; Not bad, you know, jes' middlin' worse, Jes' so I'd have to have a nurse. An' then she'd come an' look that sad, Twould make me feel all-fired glad; An' then it drifts to me somehow, She'd lay her cool hand on my brow, An' let me right here rise an' tell, I'd die of joy or I'd get well. |
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