Now Burly Turly weren’t much tall,
In fact, I’d say the man was short—
But he was plum stout to a fault
And fer as nice, he was low a quart.
No matter how big the man was,
They knew ya didn’t cross ol’ Burr,
Them what did soon changed their tune
Or they found themselves now a “her.”
Then one dark day out in the barn,
Me and Burr admired the new stud—
When that big hoss stepped on Burr’s foot
And I knew Burr was out fer blood!
But much to my amazement then,
Ol’ Burr seemed calmed and jest surprised—
But ‘fore I moved he raised a sledge
And whacked that hoss right twixt the eyes!
“Now why’d ya go and kill yer horse?”
I asked with misapprehension—
“He jest paid me no mind,” Burr said,
“So I had ta git his ‘tension!”
Copyright © Glen Enloe