Whiskey Bill⁠—A Fragment

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Whiskey Bill⁠—A Fragment

A-down the road and gun in hand

Comes Whiskey Bill, mad Whiskey Bill;

A-lookin’ for some place to land

Comes Whiskey Bill.

An’ everybody’d like to be

Ten miles away behind a tree

When on his joyous, aching spree

Starts Whiskey Bill.

The times have changed since you made love,

O Whiskey Bill, O Whiskey Bill!

The happy sun grinned up above

At Whiskey Bill.

And down the middle of the street

The sheriff comes on toe and feet

A-wishin’ for one fretful peek

At Whiskey Bill.

The cows go grazing o’er the lea⁠—

Poor Whiskey Bill! Poor Whiskey Bill!

An’ aching thoughts pour in on me

Of Whiskey Bill.

The sheriff up and found his stride;

Bill’s soul went shootin’ down the slide⁠—

How are things on the Great Divide,

O Whiskey Bill?