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Get Back Mr. Black
- I did not steal this Baxter
Black
- these words are mine, I'm a cowboy
hack.
-
- I wrote some poems in a cheap
motel
- just some toilet paper and I
couldn't spell.
-
- Printed them up on a copy
machine
- and sent them in to a
magazine.
-
- They didn't use em, they sent em
back
- said, "Sorry pard, we got Baxter
Black."
-
- Now he's selling books and
tapes
- while I'm at Denny's flippin'
crepes
-
- or crackin' my bones sailin' off a
horse
- there's no more fun then writin'
of course.
-
- When I was lost in that winter
storm
- I froze three fingers n' got a
good poem.
-
- But I'm a writin' fool and some
day soon
- him and me will meet at high
noon.
-
- Maybe then he'll explain to
me
- why a writer like me is writin for
free.
-
- But don't worry folks I've got
rhymes
- about those heartfelt cowboy
times
-
- like where a cowboy poet can spend
the night
- when the next day he has to stand
and recite.
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