Every since Miss Susie Johnson lost her jockey league,
there's been much excitement and more to be.
You can hear her morning, morning, night, and morning.
She's wondering where her easy rider's gone.
Cable *** goes on.
Off in inquiry.
Telegram goes off in sympathy.
Letters came from down in band.
Everywhere that Uncle Sam is the ruler of delivery.
All day long.
The phone rings.
It's not for me.
At last, good tidings fill my heart with glee.
This message came from Tennessee.
Tennessee.
This is your.
Tennessee.
Tennessee.
The writer struck this bug today.
On a southbound rattle up.
Besides him pulled my car.
I seen him there and he was on the hog.
Oh, you easy riders, got to see your way.
See, there's a bad bit, but the high gave fall.
He's gone where the seven cross the yellow dawn.
The End