Me and old Lem Briggs and old Bill Brown Took a load of corn to town Old Jim dog, the on’ery pup He just naturally followed us up. 
Chorus: Every time I come to town The boys go to kicking my dog around Makes no difference if he’s a hound Ya gotta quit kicking my dog around. 
As we driv’ past the country store A passel of yaps came out the door Jim he scooted behind a box Showered him with sticks and rocks. 
They tied a tin can to his tail And run him past the county jail That just naturally makes me sore Bill he cussed and Lem he swore 
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