COWBOY POETRY 1
Ol’ Diablo
Reckon it’s fate
Put me up on Ol’ Diablo
The lily-livered son of a whore
Noble a steed
As ever rode a mountain pass
In the dead God gone of winter
The lily-livered son of a whore
Swam me across
A roaring rage of river
Broke through barriers of ice
Foundered in snow
Plowed proud to a purpose
With nary a complaint
Got me home
The lily-livered son of a whore
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