Tuesday, October 16, 2007

Well Fancy That!

If anybody ever tries to tell you there's not a little bit of cowgirl in all of us, don't believe it. Even the Most Fine Cap'n Dyke, Lesbian Pirate Queen, has found her cowgirl side.

A few nights ago, an impromptu party broke out between Happy Hands Ranch and Cap'n Dyke's pirate ship, Th'Mound. A great time was had by all, and at some point the Cap'n penned the first half of a ballad. Then Her Fine Self challenged Starr Ann to finish it.

Well, Starr Ann can't resist a dare, so she set herself to work, though she admits she's no songwriter. Anyway, Starr Ann's probably going to kill me, but I proudly post the results of that quite raucous night. It was wild, it was disorderly, it was fun!

The Ballad of Tequila Cowgirl

The night was dark, the moon was high,
The horses neighing soft nearby,
When a figure tall and lithe came down the lane,
Her fingers twirled in Oatmeal’s mane.

Her hair walnut, her eyes were blue
And all who saw her said they knew,
That no gentlewoman sat upon the merle,
It had to be Tequila Cowgirl.

Those awake ran to give the call,
That she’d come back and that’s not all,
She had a woman by her side
Whose beauty could n’er be denied.

She rode right proud into the town,
She’d gotten up when she’d been down,
Tequila was not her only vice,
Many women found her right nice.

Tequila had a pretty maid,
Whom she wished just could’ve stayed,
But her sweetie with another rode,
Tequila felt a heavy load.

She’d come to town and downed a drink,
And bought the grocer’s wife a mink,
The men, they gathered with a frown,
And went to drive her from the town.

They burned her barn, they killed her cows,
And took the piglets from the sows,
Then they performed an awful deed,
They took from her her favourite steed.

And though she cried, and mourned her loss,
It wasn’t long she bore the cost.
For to the scene her best friend rushed
With firm intent those men be crushed.

Keen-eyed and strong, Starr Ann took measure
Of what those fiends had loosed for pleasure.
And one by one she took them on,
‘til the very last was dead or gone.

Then turning to the treasured steed,
She cut his ropes and he was freed
To hasten to his cowgirl’s side
And wait steadfast for their next ride.

The night was dark, the moon was high.
Destruction lay both far and nigh.
But the power of cowgirl love
Would rebuild it all, soon enough.