But you know, Cic, you know that he ain’t what
you need.
Outside of a show piece to stand in the barn,
That hoss he ain’t worth, Cic, a tinker’s gol-
darn.
What you want is that hoss of mine—want him
blame bad,
He don’t need no whip, crackers, cudgel, or gad.
’Thout strap, boot, or toeweights, he’s gone out
and showed