From: russell-watson@att.net   
      
   On 18 Jul 2003 00:50:17 GMT, xmarx467@aol.compost (Chris Mark) wrote:   
      
   >>From: Russell Watson   
   >   
   >>"She stole my heart   
   >>They stole the fire   
   >>They stole my prairie when they strung all that wire"   
   >   
   >Here's an old song from way back when (waltz time):   
   >   
   >How well I do remember, how well I do recall   
   >How we used to round them up and brand them one and all.   
   >Right on that same old spot where we used to rope the steers,   
   >They're grown big pertaters and them little roastin' ears.   
   >   
   >(Refrain)   
   >Then we'll ride no more fat horses and we'll have to sell our twine,   
   >Go and eat that old sow belly cut so damn close to the rind.   
   >   
   >I rode up on a table bluff and pulled off my slouch hat,   
   >Then all that I could see was the farm shacks on the flat.   
   >Said the Indian to the cowboy, "You'd better look around,   
   >For you're liable to be camping on some other feller's ground."   
   >   
   >(Refrain)   
   >   
   >Now the Indians and the cowboys, they used to live in peace,   
   >Till the damned old dryland farmers come a-creepin' from the East.   
   >...... I forget the rest......   
   >   
   >   
   >   
   >Chris Mark   
      
   Good one.   
   '97 FLSTF   
   To reply by e-mail, remove nospam from address.   
      
   --- SoupGate-Win32 v1.05   
    * Origin: you cannot sedate... all the things you hate (1:229/2)