Summary: A poem.
Category: The Big Valley
Genre: Western, Poetry
Rated: G
Word Count: 347
I know a young Barkley got stabbed in the eye.
I don’t know why he was stabbed in the eye.
Perhaps he’ll die.
I know a young Barkley got shot with a Winchester.
Where the bullet lodged inside until it began to fester.
He got shot with the Winchester, after he was stabbed in the eye.
I don’t know why he was stabbed in the eye.
Perhaps he’ll die.
I know a young Barkley got hit on the head.
He bled and he bled, the blood was bright red.
He got hit on the head, after being shot with the Winchester.
Where the bullet lodged inside until it began to fester.
He got shot with the Winchester, after he was stabbed in the eye.
I don’t know why he was stabbed in the eye.
Perhaps he’ll die.
I know a young Barkley got kicked in the ribs
I’m telling you true, I ain’t telling no fibs.
He got kicked in the ribs, after being hit on the head.
He got hit on the head, after being shot with the Winchester.
Where the bullet lodged inside until it began to fester.
He got shot with the Winchester, after he was stabbed in the eye.
I don’t know why he was stabbed in the eye.
Perhaps he’ll die.
I know a young Barkley who got beat on the back.
Crack, crack, crack went that whip on his back.
He got beat on the back, after being kicked in the ribs.
He got kicked in the ribs, after being hit on the head.
He got hit on the head, after being shot with the Winchester.
Where the bullet lodged inside until it began to fester.
He got shot with the Winchester, after he was stabbed in the eye.
I don’t know why he was stabbed in the eye.
Perhaps he’ll die.
I know a young Barkley was stomped by his horse.
Boy howdy, don’t think it –
Barkley’s don’t die
They live on forever of course.
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