Connie, Denise, and Cochise

Amid 240 units of toil Reigns my Connie Where she walks Is blessed soil California sun To match her hair, No nature's beauty Could compare Sitting at a table, With her friend Denise, Mulling over a Possible lease... To an Indian named Cochise... Will he pay in wampum Or scalps he'd taken, Or Indian souvenirs, Or maybe he's fakin' Maybe he's really from Jersey Or maybe he's not... Will he want To keep buffalo In the parking lot? Will arrows fly When he gets mad? Will he smoke odd stuff When he is sad? Erect a teepee In his living room? Keep six squaws To dispell his gloom? Ride his horse bareback to work...? Feathered head that he can shake? Or suit and tie, Briefcase at his side,?? Laptop computer Covered in cowhide?? It's a mystery, As you can see... Time will soon tell What will be. I'll let you know how it turns out, And even though You likely doubt, This story that I'm telling you... Yet, it's possible, that it just might be true.