The Pitiful Parable of Pistol Pete

Pistol Pete is Peaceful Peter now, Married life has altered him, and how. He used to be a honky tonker Always spoiling for a fight, Now he's always home with Mama And in bed by nine each night. It was a huge mistake to take that wedding vow. He had to give up hanging out with all the boys, And had to throw out all his "girlie" mags and toys. Nor can he scratch, nor cuss, nor chew, He had to kiss that life good-bye, And when he's dragged to church on Sunday, She even makes him wear a tie. There's not a thing about wedded bliss that he enjoys. Six months in and she can't take it anymore, All she does is wring her hands and pace the floor. When Pete proposed to her he promised He'd reform and get a job, But no one wants to hire a guy To sleep, drink beer, and be a slob, And Mama's sick and tired of being poor. What the last straw was for Mama, who can say, But the police came and carted her away. What she claimed as her defense, That made the judge and jury frown, Was he forgot too many times To put the toilet seat back down. "Justified, perhaps, but guilty, anyway." To see her tried Pete's old friends flocked from miles around, Then stayed to see her fried and Pete put in the ground. As each one heard the eulogy, This thought was racing through his head, "If I had followed Pete's example, That could be me there lying dead!" And not a dry eye in the parlor could be found. If there's a moral to my tale, this truth will fit: If you only "like" someone, do not commit. Before proposing, think again 'cause it's a fairly well-known fact That married life can be a pain When complete opposites attract. If you don't believe me, just read his obit Because Pistol Pete's the pitiful proof of it.