No Man Should Have Proprietary Rights Over

Somewhere Beyond The Sink-hole, Past The Magnolia, Under The Live Oaks, A Boy And A Yearling Ran Side By Side, And Were Gone Forever.

A Woman Never Forgets The Men She Could Have Had; A Man, The Women He Couldn't

Living Was No Longer The Grief Behind Him, But The Anxiety Ahead.

A Man'll Seem Like A Person To A Woman, Year In, Year Out. She'll Put Up And She'll Put Up. Then One Day He'll Do Something Maybe No Worse Than What He's Been A-doing All His Life. She'll Look At Him. And Without No Warning He'll Look Like A Varmint.

She Lives A Sophisticate's Life Among Worldly People. At The Slightest Excuse She Steps Out Of Civilization, Naked And Relieved, As I Should Step Out Of A Soiled Chemise.