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_The centipede runs across my head,

    The vinegaroon crawls in my bed,

    Tarantulas jump and scorpions play,

    The broncs are grazing far away,

    The rattlesnake gives his warning cry,

    And the coyotes sing their lullaby,

    While I sleep soundly beneath the sky._

 

 

OUT WHERE THE WEST BEGINS

 

    OUT where the handclasp's a little stronger,

    Out where the smile dwells a little longer,

      That's where the West begins;

    Out where the sun is a little brighter,

    Where the snows that fall are a trifle whiter,

    Where the bonds of home are a wee bit tighter,

      That's where the West begins.

    Out where the skies are a trifle bluer,

    Out where friendship's a little truer,

      That's where the West begins;

    Out where a fresher breeze is blowing,

    Where there's laughter in every streamlet flowing,

    Where there's more of reaping and less of sowing,

      That's where the West begins.

    Out where the world is in the making,

    Where fewer hearts in despair are aching,

      That's where the West begins;

    Where there's more of singing and less of sighing,

    Where there's more of giving and less of buying,

    And a man makes friends without half trying,

      That's where the West begins.

                            _Arthur Chapman._