Her Christmas Presents
Alice is a big girl now.
She's getting her first gun.
At four, her poppa's very proud.
Her whispers won't be very loud
So those wild things won't run,
But wait in peace while they both aim
And turn live deer into dead game.
She still gets dolls, but, anyhow,
Her gun is pink, her Gods are good,
And life looks just the way it should.
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