An’ act like an ass in the spring;
Some guy with a jack-knife an’ splinter
Will say you’re a king.
It’s blood, an’ it’s bone, an’ it’s muscle,
You’re throwin’ up there on the bar;
Next week fer a job you kin rustle,
The fool thet you are.
Oh, yes, they all think he’s the candy,
A sport, a good fellow, who spends;
I hope, when they say you’re a dandy,