Shut my mouth, Darlin'!!!

Whew! ‘At was quite a shadow blew orehead, Darlin’. Hope I dint worry ya none too much. Maybe ‘twas in honor of Mount Vesuvius a thousan’ nine hunnerd ‘n twenny six years ago?! Er maybe the past few years in ‘at looney bin aint cumpleatly flushed outta me yit! Most all the time, Ima sittin’ sa high ‘n purty ‘at if’n thangs got any better, I feel I’d haveta hire someone ta help me enjoy it! Course now Ima feelin’ a bit foolish fer havin’ shared ‘at li’l piddlin’ rut wit’ ya., but if’n yule be s’kind, lemme try ‘n see if’n I kin ‘xplain. ‘Tizzen the waitin’ as much as the missin’, ‘ats all. Sure as God made green apples, ya know more’n any how much I loves ya, BuddE, ‘n how waitin’s nere bin much more’n a pesky fly ta me. ‘Sides, I got lots o’thangs ta occapie the notsa meantime, heck, like mo’sampler stitchin’! But I was also ‘fraid ya mite be thinkin’ I was lookin’ ferwerd ta all ‘at time wit’outcha! Perish the thought! ‘Nudder o’those fine lines I guess. Bud darlin’, I do have faith, heaps o’it! ‘N I alsa miss ya heaps. ‘N ‘ats the short o’it.

Now ‘bout ‘at li’l riddle…it mite have ya ore a barrel by now, s’I’ll make it easy on ya…percussive maint’nance is when ya whack the heck outta somethang, like one a yer rusty farm implements perhaps, ta git it ta work a’gin!! Ya smilin’ yit? Well, then here’s ‘at li’l yoke I was savin’ fer ya…if’n I kin ‘member it good…this old farmer was gittin’ up in years, ‘n foun’ himself needin’ some help diggin’ up his lower forty. So’s he wrote his son, tellin’ ‘im o’his plight, askin’ if’n he mite be able ta come help ‘im out. Bein’ the good son ‘at he was, he wired back right quick, sayin’, Whate’er ya do, don’t touch the lower forty!!! ‘Ats whar I buried the bodies!! By sun-up, his father had the place crawlin’ wit’ fed’ral agents, diggin’ ever which whars, findin’ nuttin’. Next day, he got anudder tellygram. Sorry fer the disturbance, Pop. Best I cud do, considerin’ the circumstances.

My sediments ‘xactly, Bud darlin’!!! Sorry fer the disturbance. Hopin’ all’s well wit’ ya on the farm, ‘n ‘at ya find some time fer some funnin' 'n reflection ‘n fishin’ in ‘at river o’yers, nere fergittin’ ‘at fer all her faults, this Deanie gal loves ya still!

Why doan I do jest as ya say
Why do I jest give me my way
Why do I sigh, why doan I try – ta ‘member

It musta bin ‘at somethang lovers call fate
Kept me sayin’ "I haveta wait"
I saw ‘em all, jest couldn’ fall – ‘til we met

It had ta be you, it had ta be you
I wandered ‘roun, ‘n finally found - the someBuddE who
Cud make me be true, ‘n could make me be blue
‘N e’en be glad jest ta be sad – thinkin’ o’you

Some others I’ve seen, mite nere be mean
Mite nere be cross, er try ta be boss
But they wouldn’ do
Fer nobuddy else, gave me a thrill – wit’ all my faults, I love
ya still
It had ta be you, wunnerful you
It had ta be you

Gus Kahn

XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXO
Glad ta be sad, glad ta be mad ‘bout you!!!
Deanie