Piss Pot Pete

Nell was a schoolteacher way out west
But she gave up teaching. She like diddlin' best

Now it was a standing bet in our home town
There were no two men black or brown
That could frog old Nell and hold her down

'Til one day there strode into the bar
Wild and wooly Piss Pot Pete
Fresh off the range from diddlin' sheep

Pisspot laid his John upon the bar
The old folks say that it reached from thar to thar.

Pete yelled for a bottle then turned as he spoke
Spent a year on the range with a rusty load in my poke

I've palmed a few batches on the hill where I sat
Changed hands and gained a stroke -- caught it in my hat

On a cold winter's nights, I go to bed with the sheep
Then leave my John soak 'til the shit is knee deep.

Now I want a gal, no two bit whore
She must be a good one who knows all the score

There's only one woman any good I hear tell
She's a hustling chippy a bitch called Nell

Now just the sound of that name brought a hush over those walls
The only noise in the room was Pete scratching his balls

So you want old Nell, said a voice from the door.
Well that's what I'm called. I'm that old whore

I hear you are here bragging. I know your sort
There won't be any price. We'll do it for sport

But I'll take a bet -- anything you can name --
Mine against your and only one winner in the game

It's a deal said Pete and the crowd gave a holler
Then the betting began. No odds. Dollar for Dollar.

They all shook hands and the bets were made
For Pete and Nell to screw and spar
Up on the hill behind the bar

When the day arrived thousands fought for a seat
Just to see that half-bread hide his meat

A shout arose when the half-breed came
Dressed and ready for that deadly game

Nell came out and the crowd gave a cheer
For on Nell's face there was a sneer

For this little old shriveled man
That dared to brag he could frog her can

They turned and sparred twisted and squeezed
First one then the other upon their knees

Fought and fought for hours and hours
Tore down trees, grass and flowers

The sneer was gone from old Nell's pan
All her thoughts were on her can

Neither smiled; neither spoke
Suddenly Nell missed a stroke
And Pisspot nailed her as she broke

The ground was torn for miles around
where poor Nell's ass had drug the ground

Nell died that day all broken and tore
They hung her pants on the craphouse door.

Poor, poor Nell.