Fidelity

Fidelity


Being a shorty, as you see,
A bare five footer,

The why my wife is true to me
Is my six-shooter.

For every time a guy goes by
Who looks like a lover,

I polish it to catch his eye,
And spin it over.

He notes its notches as I say:
'Believe me, Brother,

If Junie ever goes astray,
They'll be another.'

A husband has to have a gun
And guts to pull it:

Few fellows think a bit of fun
Is worth a bullet.

For June would sit on any knee
If it wore pants,

Yet she is faithful unto me,
As gossip grants.

And though I know some six-foot guy
Would better suit her,

Her virtue triumphs, thanks to my
Six shooter.