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Cowboy Lyrics |
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Uster kiss her—huh, well, sort o'—when the
moon got back a cloud, An' she'd pout her lips pertendin' she was
mad an' then aloud She'd lafE an' fix her ribbins, fer at times such
things come down When a girl goes buggy-ridin' in her Sunday-
meetin' gown.
Goodness my! but time's skeedaddled; jes'
a-driftin' that-o-way, I'm bald-headed—gettin' worser ev'ry single
passtn' day; An' mother, oh, well, mother busts the scales
up in the town, An', she's made herself a necktie of that
Sunday-meetin' gown- |
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