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I know an old canaller, his name is Simon Slick,
He had a mule with dreamy eyes, Lord knows that mule could kick.
He'd wink his eyes, He'd wag his tail, and greet you with a smile,
Then gently telegraph his legs, And send you half a mile.
Whoa! mule Whoa! I'm done with you forever.
You ain't no good, you never was
And you never will be neither.
You're gonna die and take a trip to the hot place down below.
Old Satan sees you coming, He'll shout "Whoa! there mule, Whoa!"

Now this mule he's a daisy, he pulverized the hog
Dissected seven Chinamen And he kicked a yeller dog.
He kicked as quick as lightnin', and he had an iron jaw,
He's just the mule to have around to tame your mother-in-law.
Whoa! mile Who! Why don't you hear them holler,
"Tie a knot right in his tail so he don't slip through the collar!"
WHy don't they out him on a track, why don't they let him go?
And ev'rytime he comes around, shout "Whoa! mule Whoa!

From The Canaller's Songbook, Hullfish
Collected in Sullivan County, NY By John Price.
@animal @canal
filename[ SIMONSLK

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