The Farm That Bull Built
Oh! over the hill to Robbinsdale,
For a slap on the back and a hearty hail.
Where the cows do tricks in the new mown hay,
And the Bull is thrown in a very quaint way.
Where Gus is tired from morn till night,
And the old silo is always tight.
Where the chickens sing and the roosters crow,
And the corn does a hoe-down row on row.
So up the road to the Whiz Bang farm
Where the onions grow but do no harm.
It’s a merry crowd that slings the hoe
On Billy’s farm. Come gang let’s go.
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They tell me people are so tough in South St. Paul they play Tiddly-Winks with the sewer covers. Zatright?
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