<p class="tit-song">BOB STANFORD <span class="pagenum"><SPAN id="page265" name="page265"></SPAN>(p. 265)</span></p>
<p>Bob Stanford, he's a Texas boy,<br/>
He lives down on the flat;<br/>
His trade is running a well-drill,<br/>
But he's none the worse for that.</p>
<p>He is neither rich nor handsome,<br/>
But, unlike the city dude,<br/>
His manners they are pleasant<br/>
Instead of flip and rude.</p>
<p>His people live in Texas,<br/>
That is his native home,<br/>
But like many other Western lads<br/>
He drifted off from home.</p>
<p>He came out to New Mexico<br/>
A fortune for to make,<br/>
He punched the bottom out of the earth<br/>
And never made a stake.</p>
<p>So he came to Arizona<br/>
And again set up his drill<br/>
To punch a hole for water,<br/>
And he's punching at it still.</p>
<p>He says he is determined<br/>
To make the business stick<br/>
Or <span class="pagenum"><SPAN id="page266" name="page266"></SPAN>(p. 266)</span> spend that derned old well machine<br/>
And all he can get on tick.</p>
<p>I hope he is successful<br/>
And I'll help him if I can,<br/>
For I admire pluck and ambition<br/>
In an honest working man.</p>
<p>So keep on going down,<br/>
Punch the bottom out, or try,<br/>
There is nothing in a hole in the ground<br/>
That continues being dry.</p>
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