Fidelity

 Being a shorty, as you see,
 A bare five footer,
The why my wife is true to me
 Is my six-shooter.

For every time a guy goes by
 Who looks like a lover,
I polish it to catch his eye,
 And spin it over.


He notes its notches as I say:
 'Believe me, Brother,
If Junie ever goes astray,
 They'll be another.
'
A husband has to have a gun
 And guts to pull it:
Few fellows think a bit of fun
 Is worth a bullet.


For June would sit on any knee
 If it wore pants,
Yet she is faithful unto me,
 As gossip grants.

And though I know some six-foot guy
 Would better suit her,
Her virtue triumphs, thanks to my
 Six shooter.

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