Down In Oklahoma
We're down here in old Okla.
Where you never have the blues
Where the bandits steal the jitneys
And the Marshals steal the booze.
Where the 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.
Where you get up in the morning
In a world of snow and sleet
And you come home in the evening
Suffocating in the heat.
Where the jitneys whiz about you
And the street cars barely creep
Where the burglars pick your pockets
While you "lay me down to sleep"
Where the bulldogs all have rabies
And the rabbits they have fleas,
Where the big girls like the wee ones
Wear their dresses to the knees.
Where you whist out in the morning
Just to give your health a chance
Say "Howdy" to some fellow who
Shoots big holes in your pants.
Where the wise owls are afraid to hoot
And bird's don't dare to sing
For it's hell down here in Okla.
Where they all shoot on the wing.