Down in Oklahoma Poem
Additional Details:
| We're down here in old Okla., Where you never have the blues Where the bandits steal the jitneys And the Marshals steal the booze. Where the buildings horn the skyline Where the populace is boost Where they shoot men just for pastime Where the chickens never roost. Where the stickup men are wary And the bullets fall like hail; Where each pocket has a pistol And each pistol's good for jail; Where they always hang the jury Where they always hang the jury Where they never hand a man If you call a man a liar, you Get home the best you can. Where you get up in the morning In a world of snow and sleet And you come home in the evening Suffocating in the heat. Where the jitneys whiz about you And the street cars barely creep Where the burglars pick your pockets While you "lay me down to sleep" Where the bulldogs all have rabies And the rabitts they have fleas, Where the big girls lke the wee ones Were their dresses to the knees. Where you whist out in the morning Just to give your health a chance Say "Howdy" to some fellow who Shoots big holes in your pants. Where the wise owls are afraid to hoot And bird's don't dare to sing For it's hell down here in Okla. Where they all shoot on the wing. |
