Tressie Ours

(Clermont, Florida, USA)


Stop, don't play in the devils yard
It's not like a game behind the barn
You give him an inch and he'll take a yard
Yards turn to miles and he'll only smile.
It not a game with him, he plays for keeps,
He won't care how much you sob and weep
While you turn like him wicked and wild
He will still have that silly smile
He will have you say things you'll regret

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