Old Mule by Arthur (Spoken)
Old mule, you're the son of a And I'm in the of God Yet, here we work, hitched and tillin' the sod I wonder if you for me Or I work for you, old At times I think a partnership Between a and a doggone fool.
When plowin', we go the distance But I work harder you You skim the on four good legs And I hobble on two So, mule, mathematically four legs 'gainst my two I do twice the per leg I do as much as you.
Now soon we'll be makin' the crop That crop'll be split three A for you, a third for me And a third for the pay You take your and eat it gettin the best! And How! I split my amongst the wife and eight kids The banker, six and a cow.
And right here mule, I might You only plow the I the corn and husk it While you're around All Fall and of the Winter Old mule, you know true
I break my back with a cotton Tryin' to pay off the on you.
The only time I'm your Is election comes A man can and a mule cannot But that worry you none Because you're a old donkey You know what to about You politics wouldn't help you none And I'm findin' it out.
So, mule, confidentially Would you change places me Would you up all my worries And contented be Would you places, I'm askin' 'Course, you know we But you, if you could, now tell the truth doggone right, you wouldn't.