The Ballad of Dead-Eye
Dick and Eskimo Nell
Gather round all you whorey
Gather round and hear
this story.
When a man rows old,
& his balls grow cold
And the tip of his prick
turns blue,
It bends in the middle
like a one-string fiddle
He can tell you a tale
or two.
So pull up a chair, and
stand me a drink
And a tale to you I'll
tell
Of Dead-eye Dick and
Mexican Pete,
And a harlot called
Eskimo Nell.
When Dead-eye Dick and
Mexican Pete
Go forth in search of
fun
It's Dead-eye Dick that
slings the prick
And
Mexican Pete the gun.
When Dead-eye Dick and
Mexican Pete
Are sore, depressed and
sad
It's always a cunt that
bears the brunt
Bat the shooting ain't so bad.
Now Dead-eye Dick and
Mexican Pete
Live down by Dead Man's
Creek
And such was their luck
they'd had no fuck
For nigh on half a week.
Just a moose or two and
a caribou,
And a bison cow or so,
And for Dead-eye Dick
with his kingly prick
This fucking was mighty
slow.
So do or dare this horny
pair
Set forth for the Rio
Grande,
Dead-eye Dick with his
mighty prick
And
Pete with his gun in his hand.
And as they blazed their
noisy trail
No man their path
withstood,
And many a bride, her
husband's pride,
A pregnant widow stood.
They reached the strand
of the Rio Grande
At the height of a
blazing noon,
And to slack their
thirst and do their worst
They sought Black Mike's
Saloon.
And as they pushed the
great doors wide
Both prick and gun
flashed free.
According to sex, you
bleeding wrecks,
You drink or fuck with
me."
They'd heard of Dead-eye
Dick,
From Maine to Panama
So with scarcely worse
than a muttered curse
Those dagos sought the
bar.
The girls too knew his
playful ways
Down on the Rio Grande,
And forty whores pulled
down their drawers
At
Dead-eye Dick's command.
They saw the fingers of
Mexican Pete
Itch on the trigger grip
And they didn't wait, at
fearful rate
Those whores began to
strip.
Now Dead-eye Dick was
breathing quick
With lecherous snorts
and grunts
So forty arses were
bared to view
And
likewise forty cunts.
Now forty cunts and
forty arses
If you can use your
wits,
And if you're slick at
arithmetic,
Makes
exactly eighty tits.
Now eighty tits are a
gladsome sight
For a man with a raging
stand
It may be rare in
Berkeley Square
But
not on the Rio Grande.
Now Dead-eye Dick had
fucked a few
On the last preceding
night,
This he had done just to
show his fun
And
to wet his appetite.
His phallic limb was in
fucking trim,
As he backed and took a
run
He made a dart at the
nearest tart
And
scored a hole in one.
He bore her to the sandy
floor
And there he fucked her
fine
And though she grinned,
it put the wind
Up
the other thirty-nine.
When Dead-eye Dick lets
loose his prick
He's got no time to
spare,
For speed & length
combined with strength
He fairly singes hair.
He made a dart at the
next spare tart,
When into that harlot's
hell
Strode a gentle maid who
was unafraid,
And her name it was
Eskimo Nell.
By this time Dick had
got his prick
Well into number two
When Eskimo Nell let out
a yell,
She bawled to him,
"Hey you."
He gave a flick of his
muscular prick
And the girl flew over
his head,
And he wheeled about
with an angry shout.
His face and his prick
were red.
She glanced
our hero up and down,
His looks she seemed to
decry,
With utter scorn she
glimpsed the horn
That rose from his hairy
thigh.
She blew the smoke from
her cigarette
Over his steaming knob
So utterly beat was
Mexican Pete
He failed to do his job.
It was Eskimo Nell who
broke the spell
In accents clear and
cool,
"You cunt struck
shrimp of a Yankee pimp.
You call that thing a
tool?"
"If this here town
can't take that down,"
She sneered to those
cowering whores,
"There's one little
cunt can do the stunt,
It's Eskimo Nell's, not
yours."
She stripped her
garments one by one
With an air of conscious
pride
And as she stood in her
womanhood
They saw the great
divide.
She seated herself on a
table top
Where someone had left
his glass,
With a twitch of her
tits she crushed it to bits
Between
the cheeks of her arse.
She flexed her knees
with supple ease,
And spread her legs
apart,
With a friendly nod to
the mangy sod
She gave him the cue to
start.
But Dead-eye Dick knew a
trick or two,
He meant to take his
time,
And a girl like this was
fucking bliss
So he played the
pantomime.
He flexed his arse hole
to and fro
And made his balls
inflate
Until they looked like
granite knobs
Upon
a garden gate.
He blew his anus inside
out,
His balls increased in
size,
His mighty prick grew
twice as thick
Till
it almost reached his eyes.
He polished it up with
alcohol,
And made it steaming hot
To finish the job he
sprinkled the knob
With
a cayenne pepperpot.
Then neither did he take
a run
Nor did he take a leap,
Nor did he stoop, but
took a swoop
And a steady forward
creep.
With piercing eye he
took a sight
Along his mighty tool,
And the steady grin as
he pushed it in
Was
calculatedly cool.
Have you seen the giant pistons
On
the mighty C.P.R.
With
the driving force of a thousand horse.
Well, you know what
pistons are.
Or you think you
do. But you've yet to learn
The ins and outs of the
trick
Of the work that's done
on a non-stop run
By
a guy like Dead-eye Dick.
But Eskimo Nell was no
infidel,
As good as whole harem
With the strength of ten
in her abdomen
And
the rock of ages between.
Amid stops she could
take the stream
Like the flush of a watercloset,
And she gripped his cock
like a Yale Lock
On
the National Safe Deposit.
But Dead-eye Dick could
not come quick,
He meant to conserve his
powers,
If he'd a mind he'd
grind and grind
For
a couple of solid hours.
Nell lay for a while
with a subtle smile,
The grip of her cunt
grew keener,
Squeezing her thigh she
sucked him dry
With
the ease of a vacuum cleaner.
She performed this trick
in a way so slick
As to set in complete
defiance
The basic cause and
primary laws
That
govern sexual science.
She calmly rode through
the phallic code
Which
for years had stood the test,
And the ancient rules of
the classic schools
In a second or two went west.
And so my friends we come
to the end
Of copulation's classic
The effect on Dick was
sudden and quick
And
akin to an anesthetic.
He fell to the floor,
and knew no more
His passions extinct and
dead
And he did not shout as
his prick fell out
Though 'twas stripped
right down to a thread
Then Mexican Pete jumped
to his feet
To avenge his pal's
affront,
With jarring jolt of his
blue-nosed Colt
He rammed it up her
cunt.
He rammed it up to the
trigger grip
And fired three times
three
But to his surprise she
closed her eyes
And
smiled in ecstasy.
She jumped to her feet
with a smile so sweet
"Bully", she
said, "for you.
Though I had guessed
that was the best
That
you two poor cocks could do."
"When next, my
friend, that you intend
To sally forth for fun
Buy Dead-eye Dick a
sugar stick
And
yourself an elephant gun.
"I'm going back to
the frozen North,
Where
the pricks are hard and strong.
Back to the land of the
frozen stand
Where
the nights are six months long.
"It's hard as tin
when they put it in
In the land where spunk
is spunk
Not a trickling stream
of lukewarm cream
But
a solid frozen chunk.
"Back to the land
where they understand
What it means to
fornicate,
Where even the dead
sleep two in a bed
And the babies
masturbate.
"Back to the land
of the grinding gland,
Where the walrus plays
with his prong,
Where the polar bear wanks off in his lair
That's where they'll
sing this song.
"They'll tell this
tale on the Arctic Trail
Where the nights are sixty
below,
Where it's so damn cold
that the Johnnies are sold
Wrapped
up in a ball of snow.
"In the valley of
death with baited breath
That's where they'll
sing it too,
Where the skeletons
rattle in sexual battle,
And the rotting corpses
screw.
"Back to the land
where men are men,
Terra Bellicum,
And there I'll spend my
worthy end
For the North is
calling: 'Come."'
So Dead-eye Dick and
Mexican Pete
Slunk out of the Rio
Grande,
Dead-eye Dick with his
useless prick
And
Pete with no gun in his hand.