14,000 Things to be Happy About (#45)
Since the necessities of rhyme have forced me in the last lines to present what may appear to be a stereotypic slur on one of the noblest regions of my country, let me make it clear that I believe that a lot of Yankees are idiots too.
I wisht I was ingenious, like them Yankee ingenieers.
I'd make up lots of ingenes, like what kinds I allus hears.
Like bombs would kill those germes, and all them other nasty vermines,
And one would git them Russkies cold (or is it still them Germans?)
I'd come up with some sorta scheme to make these winters hot
And those dang summers cooler. And then I'd make a pot
What makes the water in the crick taste jus' like kegs o' beer,
An' a whistle what would make the gals come swarmin' to me here.
But shucks, I aint no ingenieer, jus a dumb ol' Sutherner,
So I guess it's darn fool luck the folks just made me governor.