I have been in a fair dust-up in Denver City,
Made many a baresark rush;
I have bluffed with Death in my time and scooped the kitty,
Smashing a cool straight flush;
I have gouged my jack-knife deep in a victim's thorax
(Golly, how the blood did gush!);
I have scalped some dozens of skulls with an Indian war-axe
Without being put to the blush.
I've killed with stilettos at times and with crude sandbagging,
Or a brute belaying-pin;
With a twisted cord I have frequently done my scragging,
And doped with devilish gin;
I remember once in a boarding-house racket at Rio
How my snickersnee snicked clean in;
And I booted a blackguard to death with consid'rable _brio_
One evening in Tien-tsin.
I've run amok with a kris and sent men howling;
With a kukri I've killed my prey;
I'm an amateur still--I admit it--at disembow'ling,
But I've settled a few that way;
And I mind me well (for I still can sniff the aroma
Of that particular fray)
How I quartered and cut into ribbons some beggars at Boma
On rather a busy day.
But I'm blowed--being really a rabid humanitarian,
And a vegetarian too--
If I mean to devour an unfortunate fellow Aryan
In the Island of Oahu.
I have done dire deeds by request, without any evasion,
But this thing I will not do;
If they won't be content with a "fake" for this single occasion,
My cinema job is through.
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