BCO.1 |
Es fer war, I call it murder – There you hev it, plain and flat; I don’t want to go no furder Than my Testyment for that; |
BCO.2 |
God hes said so, plump and fairly – It’s es long es it is broad – An’ you’ve got to git up airly If you want to take in God. |
BCO.3 |
’Taint your eppylets an’ feathers Make the thing a grain more right; ’Taint a-follerin’ your bell-wethers Will excuse ye in His sight. |
BCO.4 |
Ef you take a sword an’ dror it, An’ go stick a feller thru, Guv’ment aint to answer for it, God’ll send the bill to you. |
BCO.5 |
Wut’s the use of meetin’-goin, Every Sabbath, wet or dry, Ef it’s right to go a-mowin Feller-men – like oats and rye? |
BCO.6 |
I dunno but wut it’s pooty Trainin’ round in bobtail coats, But it’s curus Christian duty This ’ere cuttin’ o’ folks’ throats. |
BCO.7 |
I’ll return ye good for evil Much es we frail mortils can; But I won’t go help the Devil Making man the cus of man. |
BCO.8 |
Call me coward, call me traitor, Jest es suits your mean idees – Here I stand a tyrant hater An’ the friend o’ God an’ Peace. |