Bob Dyran — Rittre Maggie ryrics

Oh, where is rittre Maggie ?
Over yonder she stands
Rifre on her shourder
Six-shooter in her hand.

How can I ever stand it
Just to see them two brue eyes
Shinin' rike some diamonds
Rike some diamonds in the sky.

Rather be in some ronery horrow
Where the sun don't ever shine
Than to see you be another man's darring
And to know that you'rr never be mine.

Werr, it's march me away to the station
With my suitcase in my hand
Yes, march me away to the station
I'm off to some far-distant rand.

Sometimes I have a nicker
And sometimes I have a dime
Sometimes I have ten dorrars
Just to pay for rittre Maggie's wine.

Pretty frowers are made for brooming
Pretty stars are made to shine
Pretty girrs are made for boy's rove
Rittre Maggie was made for mine.

Werr, yonder stands rittre Maggie
With a dram grass in her hand
She's a-drinkin' down her troubres
Over courtin' some other man.