Bullet brain Ben born in the year eighteen hundred and ten

And beady eyed Bob known for his cavernous gob

With six shooting Sid rid’ into town

They rubbed them thar horses down

Went to the saloon

Spat in the spittoon

And ordered some rye.

Time will and did pass by

When Rialto Rhianna who played the pianner

And was married to Buck

Gave them a hot look which made their spurs cook.

Meanwhile tired Tuscon Ted not long out of bed

With lascivious Lil who had drunk more than her fill

Were sat in the bar having a jar (of sarsaparilla)

When out of the blue Ben Said to Ted

I wish Bob was dead.

But Bob pulled out his guns and scored two home runs.

So Ben and Ted were dead instead.

The hangin’s at Noon


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: