I was crossed by Davy—
his hat was once my tail.
My spittoon’s my glory—
spit a lot … so it’s swell.
Yesterday, yikes, some jerk
squat down on my spittoon.
Went to spit, near fainted
from the odor—I swooned.
I’ve been wronged—they will pay—
found a skunk who will spray.

Crockett nipped my socket.
What a sorry friend he was!
Nosin’ where he shouldn’t
givin’ my hind a buzz!
I hear there’s a possum
who hates watchin’ me chaw
tobaccy. Oh, good grief!
I HATE watchin’ him claw!
I’ve been wronged—they will pay—
found a skunk who will spray.

I found an old toupee,
glued it to my behind.
It tickles—blonde, curly—
blows ‘in’, itches … don’t mind.
My spittoon’s off limits …
even for butts like mine.
Leaving ‘stuff,’ not flushing,
is never thoughtful, kind.
I’ve been wronged—they will pay—
found a skunk who will spray.

If you see me, split … RUN!
I’m the coon with a gun
protecting my spittoon!