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Written by Douglas Mallock, adaptation by Gary
Tharp, CCIM
$ Bill Brown $
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Bill Brown made a million, Bill Brown, think of that!
A boy, you'll remember, as poor as a rat.
Bill hoed for the neighbors, did jobs by the day,
Yet Bill made a million??...or more, so they say.
You can't understand it, well, neither could I.
But then I remembered, and now I know why.
The bell might be ringin', the dinner horn blow,
But Bill always hoed to the end of the row.
Bill worked for my father, as you may recall.
He wasn't a wonder, no wonder at all.
He couldn't out-hoe me, nor cover more ground,
Or hoe any cleaner, or beat me around.
'Fact I was better at one thing, I know:
One toot from the kitchen, 'n home I'd go,
But Bill always hoed to the end of the row.
We used to get hongry out there in the corn,
When it come to music nuthin' equalled a horn.
A horn yellin' biscuits, tomatoes 'n beans,
And pork and potatoes, and gravy 'n greens.
Now, I ain't blamin' no-one, for quittin' on time,
To stop with the whistle, that isn't a crime.
But as for the million, well, this much I know:
Bill Brown always hoed to the end of the row!
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