Works involving rhyme and meter. Sometimes not
Oh I own a little ranch in the middle of the U S A
(Glory Hallelooya)
Oh I own a little ranch in the middle of the U S A
(Yeh, yeh, yeh)
Oh I own a little ranch in the middle of the U S A
(Aaaaa [deep breath] aaaaaa)
Oh I own a little ranch in the middle of the U S A
(Middle of the U S A)
Continue reading “I Own a Little Ranch in the Middle of the USA”
The lambs have grown
The chicks have flown
The seeds were sown
But now have blown
To far afield
Their fruit to yield
A drug that healed
The king upon the throne
There it was, in the reeds,
It didn’t see me, it couldn’t see me.
Step by step I got closer,
So close as to see its eyes,
Red and bulging.
The Locksmith’s Guild, who are never mizen,
proudly present, Joseph in Prison
* * *
[Gaoler]
Get in there, you horrible mug
For a few more years, you’ll be snug
[Joseph]
Now your people’s future’s mizen
also I’ve been thrown in prison.
I’m going home
Home once again
Going home
Once again
I gotta senile baby (see my baby)
And she’s locked up in the pen
I wanna get close to you, baby
I wanna feel you
I wanna squeeze you
I wanna see you
I wanna smell you
I wanna get close to you
I went to bed last night
But I could not get to sleep
My socks were on too tight
And my wife, all she do was weep
Both get up around seven-thirty.
Wash ourselves clean, we mustn’t look dirty.
Grab our coats and sign a flower
Run for the train. It leaves in an hour.
Sitting here, drinking beer, feeling queer, shed a tear.
Have no fear, listen, hear, to the cheer, getting near.
Raining deer, start to jeer, all is clear, in your ear.
Into gear, then a leer, from your peer, in the rear,
Is the seer. Your career, now is sere.
I came to see you one windy winter’s day
When I saw you sitting there
I knew you had something to say
M. Robert Gibson 
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