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A Fistful of Truffles
There are Guineas that live in America
Guineas that live in a zoo
But the craziest, zaniest guineas of all
Are the ones that reside in Peru
It is said that they live in the Andes
And on weekends they invade the towns
Putting everyone there in a happy affair
And ridding its people of frowns
They usually start early evening
About six as they ride into town
On a big herd of disgruntled Llamas
While sporting handmade bridal gowns
They greet everyone they bump into
They Happy-Slap folk with high 4’s
Wearing Rhinestone encrusted sombreros
Make their way through the Saloons front doors
Banditos had ambushed a posse
High on the Mesa Magill
20 lawmen laid low without warning
Not a plot now remained on Boot Hill
Annie Bartels the belle of the local saloon
She was packing them in by the score
The sweetest of voices enticed them
Twos and threes as they skipped through the door
The Gruffest of garelous gangsters
Curley Tales and his Outlaws rode in
Claiming Annie as his for the taking
Wearing Wyatt Burps badge made of tin
In the shadows, two strangers deal Stud
Sitting there minding their bacon
The burly Bandito before them
They could see, was a swine in the making
‘She’s singing my song dude’ he hissed
A whisper from Ham Peckinpaw
The Tin that you’re wearing ain’t legal
That makes this a town with no Law
Ol’ Curley, enraged by the stranger
Used Annie to hide, as he drew
Unfazed in the cold face of danger
Sitting calm as the bullets they flew
The bullets flew thick and were heavy
As they peppered the Dodgey Saloon
The quiet one drew fast as lightning
Sending six on the right to High Noon
Not a whisper was heard on the wind
As he moved with the grace of a cat
Six more Bandits fell all in a row
As Ham Peckinpaw lifted his hat
Now only Bold Curley remained
Annie slipped from the hem of her hat
Two hair pins as sharp an as shiny
Protruded where Curley Tales sat
That bandit departed in haste
He howled all the way outta town
Every time his horse cantered below him
Its took six months before he sat down
It’s drinks on the house for the locals
Shouts Porter the DODGEY TOWN Mayor
Then Tucks into a full bag of truffles
As our heroes, he watched disappear
That wild night would ring out forever
In the local newspaper Pig Pen
How our heroes turned tail on the bandits
Was sung of and told time again
Copyright ©
Peter Walsh
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