Cactus Down My Front
(llewtrraH)
by F Turner
*CHORUS:
Chorus: I've got cactus down my front,
 A vulture on my head;
I've just been kissed by a Tennessee miss,
 And I wish that I was dead.
I've a jock strap made of leather,
 That tickles, hee, hee, hee;
But the cactus down my front,
Made a loser out of me.
 I was up in Cripple Creek;
 I was dying for a leak,
So I dropped behind a screening cactus there.
And when I did up my belt,
 I can't tell you how it felt,
But I knew the meaning of a prickly pear.
I went down to Nevada,
 Where the girls try so much harder,
And I met a cute young thing called Caroline.
But each time she felt my prickles,
She said "Goodness me, that tickles!"
Now she's gone and run off with a porcupine.
In Cal-i-for-ni-a,
 Where the rustlers are so gay,
 I bought a gentle gee-gee name of Jack.
But he livened up a lot,
When he felt my prickly bot,
That buckin' bronco broke my bloomin' back.