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Won't ya' please do yer bleedin' more quietly,
Now, I don't mean ta' seem bein' rude,
an' I kin see as yer troubled,
as yer body's there doubled,
an' I'd help but I don't think I should.

Well, sure an' I'd give ya' a hand,
if it weren't fer yer actin' so grand,
I kin see yer in need,
but I done my good deed,
Tis justice 'round here we demand.

Oh ya' say that the pain's gettin' worse?
Good, I'll add that note to me verse,
Now let go of my leg,
son, yer blockin' the keg,
and it won't do ya' no good ta' curse.

See, tis seemin' a bit unsightly,
ta' be takin' me wife to bed nightly,
so if ya' should happen ta' die,
and I spit in yer eye,
well, ya' just should'a asked me forthrightly.

      — Karen Masullo