State of Texas Postcards
DOWN IN TEXAS
We're down here in old Texas, Where you never have the blues,
Where the bandits steal the jitneys And the Marshals steal the booze.
Where buildings horn the skyline, Where the populace is boost,
Where they shoot men just for pastime, Where the chickens never roost.
Where the stickup men are wary, And the bullets fall like hail,
Where each pocket has a pistol, And each pistol's good for jail.
Where they always hang the jury, Where they never hang a man,
If you call a man a liar, you get home the best you can.
We're down here in old Texas, Where you never have the blues,
Where the bandits steal the jitneys And the Marshals steal the booze.
Where buildings horn the skyline, Where the populace is boost,
Where they shoot men just for pastime, Where the chickens never roost.
Where the stickup men are wary, And the bullets fall like hail,
Where each pocket has a pistol, And each pistol's good for jail.
Where they always hang the jury, Where they never hang a man,
If you call a man a liar, you get home the best you can.
