Air: The Minstrel Boy
A CRUSTY JOKE DONE BROWN
The battered "Buck" to the dogs has gone,
In the dirtiest holes you'll find him.
A shame-proof shield he has buck-led on,
And his shirt hangs out behind him!
Ten good centsin his shirt he did roll
You see there the knot with a pin in ;
Twas the kicking of the South which caused the hole
Which exposes his freely-soiled linen!
When the Titans fell, the angry gods
Neath "Rocky Mountains" jammed them;
And earthquakes rose, from their giant throes
To escape --though Heaven had damned them!
But Buck's well known to have no "backbone,"
And to kick was never hasty:
Let s bury him in dough (that he once loved so!)
And he'll make a venison pasty!
The pie was baked, the guests did start,
For a rush of foul air rises;
We found a stone which had been his heart,
And a bundle of "Compromises!"
And this was all of Buck we could find.
With "gas" he had been loaded
And proved but a bag of filthy wind
Which Fremont's touch exploded.