IN OLD KENTUCKY
A Parody
The juleps nowhere sprout so green
As in Kentucky;
And wood hogs are nowhere are so lean
As in Kentucky;
The mud-creeks nowhere have the smell,
And nowhere else the truth to tell—
It is so hot this side of hell,
As in Kentucky.
The bum hotel is all the style
In old Kentucky;
Where waiters wait once in a while,
In old Kentucky;
The trolley sometimes comes along—
That’s when the current is running strong,
Or something else has not gone wrong—
In old Kentucky.
Nowhere such storms obscure the sun
As in Kentucky;
Nowhere do trains so slowly run
As in Kentucky;
And when my time has come to go,
Just take me there—because you know
I’ll longer live—I’ll die so slow
In old Kentucky.
Nowhere does soil so well suffice
As in Kentucky;
Nowhere ancestors cut such ice
As in Kentucky;
And I believe that lazy land
Of fleas and heat and sand,
Was simply fashioned to be damned—
Was old Kentucky