If I could say the words I think
My tongue may over work and bust;
I'd make Old Shakespeare arise and say,
"What varlot now disturbs my dust?"

If I could do the things which I
Am simply aching to perform;
I'd rope the lightning and I'd jerk,
The terror from the blinding storm.

I'd use a comet for a bronc
And ride him straight-up and proud;
My spurs would be a pair of stars,
My blanket just a fleecy cloud.

I'd round up all the planets and
I'd do it sudden, sure and soon;
Then I'd sit back calm and watch,
Them mill around the helpless moon.

I'd do this all and maybe more
Providing that I thought it would;
To this here broken heart of mine,
Do any sort of passing good.

I'd do it all and take the chance
To hold the trail through and after awhile;
If he would throw me just one word
And tie it up with one sweet smile.