| The auctioneer said, I’m not through yet,
|
| Here’s a horse the likes of which you’ve never seen,
|
| And the straw hats in the sun, with a face beneath each one,
|
| Shown doubtful and the auctioneer got mean.
|
| Do you think that you can find a horse like this every day?
|
| I don’t think there’s any better on this earth,
|
| And the more you pay, the more it’s worth.
|
| Then out she came, a snow-white mare,
|
| Prancin' and a dancin' in the silver sun,
|
| They watched her from behind, as she did her bump and grind,
|
| Walkin' naked, sad and graceful for their fun.
|
| Oh how I wished I could afford that lady painted white,
|
| A queen with high nobility of birth,
|
| But the more you pay, the more it’s worth.
|
| My pockets hung with empty blues,
|
| Silent heels were standin' on my growin' pains,
|
| My bid was not too bad, two bits was all I had,
|
| And the stable boy just handed me the reins.
|
| Well the gallery went wild, and the auctioneer half smiled,
|
| What we don’t sell we shoot or give away,
|
| 'Cause the more you pay, the more it’s worth.
|
| And where was the boy, who rode on her back,
|
| With his arms holding tight round her neck?
|
| How tightly he clung,
|
| When they both were young,
|
| And fate had not let this poor girl be so
|
| Disgraced. |