Tuesday, February 7, 2012


Her daddy pointed a big-shotgun.
Said "Marry my daughter or your dead, son.
In seven months the stork will arrive,
so get over here boy and look-alive.
Two months pregnant is my little girl.
Say your prayers and goodbye to the world,
or come right here and be wedded
to she whom you went and bedded !"
Those were the days before the Pill
way up there on Hillbilly-Hill.
Those were the days the town beneath
frowned on young singles who bought a sheath.
Those were the days when sex was a sin
and not as healthy as a hillside spring.
And so they married, the child kept a hush
till the stork left it under the gooseberry-bush.

He loves the girl this way.
He loves the girl that way.
Will the man love her always?

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