RIDE, JACKIE, RIDE!
"You Give Me Small Pox"
John Smith loved Pochahantas
and yeah, she felt the same.
When her daddy was about to kill him
she said "oh daddy now don't you dare!
He gives me fever!"
"Baby girl" said her papa, "what you call fever,
we call small pox.
Time after time the white man's come to infect us
and we always seem to take it
as some infectous kind of love."
"But daddy, oh daddy, i don't itch! I feel the fever
all up in my ginch! there's no boils
or lesions burstin' up on my skin,
so please Daddy, won't you just let him live.
He gives me fever."
"Oh sweet little daughter,
that just may be so,
he may not have the pox,
but i just can't let him go.
He may have the Syph, and funny thing is,
that's what happene with the Mayans
and those damn Spanish.
So no my little girl,
i've got to, i've GOT to! expell him from our world!
Fever or not, he'll give you small pox."
So Pokie wept and wept and there John Smith knelt
under an indian axe
ready to come down on his neck.
before his neck was to be severred from his head
John Smith had one last thing left to be said:
"Don't suffer my sweet bundnt cake.
if you were to marry me
you would not be at all happy.
I'd take you to my England flat and put on you
a feathered hat.
Squeeze you into a girdle and rape you of your native world.
take away your beautiful culture,
make you act like a lady, a toy, a vulture.
not to mention, i'd make you sew my socks,
so don't waste those Powhatan tears
on a dumb guy with small pox."
heheheheheh, so there you go: "you give me small pox".
John Smith loved Pochahantas
and yeah, she felt the same.
When her daddy was about to kill him
she said "oh daddy now don't you dare!
He gives me fever!"
"Baby girl" said her papa, "what you call fever,
we call small pox.
Time after time the white man's come to infect us
and we always seem to take it
as some infectous kind of love."
"But daddy, oh daddy, i don't itch! I feel the fever
all up in my ginch! there's no boils
or lesions burstin' up on my skin,
so please Daddy, won't you just let him live.
He gives me fever."
"Oh sweet little daughter,
that just may be so,
he may not have the pox,
but i just can't let him go.
He may have the Syph, and funny thing is,
that's what happene with the Mayans
and those damn Spanish.
So no my little girl,
i've got to, i've GOT to! expell him from our world!
Fever or not, he'll give you small pox."
So Pokie wept and wept and there John Smith knelt
under an indian axe
ready to come down on his neck.
before his neck was to be severred from his head
John Smith had one last thing left to be said:
"Don't suffer my sweet bundnt cake.
if you were to marry me
you would not be at all happy.
I'd take you to my England flat and put on you
a feathered hat.
Squeeze you into a girdle and rape you of your native world.
take away your beautiful culture,
make you act like a lady, a toy, a vulture.
not to mention, i'd make you sew my socks,
so don't waste those Powhatan tears
on a dumb guy with small pox."
heheheheheh, so there you go: "you give me small pox".