You've been workin' hard an' you've earned your ale,
But just keep thinkin' 'bout me an' ma jail."

Just four weeks later in that little ole town,
A handful of drifters was kinda hangin' aroun'.
Some music was escapin' from The Star Saloon
From an' ole pianer that was way out o' tune.

Then a hootin' an' a hollerin' an' shootin' in the air
Came Hank an' his boys from the Circle and Square.
They hitched their horses outside The Star,
Still a hootin' an' a hollerin' an' headed for the bar.

As ramrod Pete kicked a batwing door,
There was no hound dog on the bar room floor.
Said foreman Hank with a loud guffaw:
"Where's that ole hound dog with the two-toed paw?"

Them cowpokes howled till they drowned the tune
From that ole pianer in The Star Saloon.
They howled some more when the barman said:
"He ain't been around - p'raps 'es dead."

The batwings parted an', then from the night,
A strange lookin' guy stepped into the light;
With guns on his hips an' specs on his nose -
'Twas that ole hound dog with the missin' toes!
  The noise died down as Fido stood there,
Just eyein' them boys from the Circle and Square.
"This here's gotta be some kinda joke,"
Said foreman Hank - then the hound dog spoke:

"Ah'm an ole hound dog an' Ah limp when Ah walk -
Ah guess ye didn't know that dogs can talk.
Ah'm a totin' these guns an' Ah'm itchin' to draw,
Ah'm lookin' fur the guy who shot ma paw!"

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