I'M wild and woolly and full of fleas, I'm hard to curry below the knees, I'm a she-wolf from Shamon Creek, For I was dropped from a lightning streak And it's my night to hollow — Whoo-pee! I stayed in Texas till they runned me out, Then in Bull Frog they chased me about, I walked a little and rode some more, For I've shot up a town before And it's my night to hollow — Whoo-pee! Give me room and turn me loose I'm peaceable without excuse. I never killed for profit or fun, But riled, I'm a regular son of a gun And it's my night to hollow — Whoo-pee! Good-eye Jim will serve the crowd; The rule goes here no sweetnin' 'lowed. And we'll drink now the Nixon kid, For I rode to town and lifted the lid And it's my night to hollow — Whoo-pee! You can guess how quick a man must be, For I killed eleven and wounded three; And brothers and daddies aren't makin' a sound Though they know where the kid is found And it's my night to hollow — Whoo-pee! When I get old and my aim aint true And it's three to one and wounded, too, I won't beg and claw the ground; For I'll be dead before I'm found When it's my night to hollow — Whoo-pee! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...RED JACKET by FITZ-GREENE HALLECK THE PRIMROSE by ROBERT HERRICK EPITAPH ON ELIZABETH, L.H. by BEN JONSON THE SHEPHERDESS by ALICE MEYNELL AN EVENING LULL by WALT WHITMAN BETWEEN WAND AND WELT by MARGARET AHO HYMN TO SCIENCE by MARK AKENSIDE |