Elisabeth imagines I`ve A yellow streak She deems I have no dash and drive, Jest dogoned weak. `A man should be a man,` says Liz `Trade blow for blow.` Poor kid! What my position is She jest don`t know. She jest don`t know my old man killed, Yea, slew and slew. As steamy blood he sweetly spilled, So could I too. And though no wrath of heart I show When I see red, I fear no S. O. B. but oh Myself I dread. Though fellers reckon me a dope And trigger-shy, `Tain`t nice to dangle on a rope, And like Pa die. So as I belly to the bar Meek is my breath . . . No guts! —Don`t needle me too far, Elizabeth!SourceThe script ran 0.001 seconds.
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