.JPG)
Jill Star was her name,
Working the bar was her game.
She welcomed cowboys, when they came in
That's how the troublle began.
An old prospector came into the bar.
Said he had ridden far.
Claimed in the mountains, he struck gold.
A fact he should have never told.
"Drinks are on me," he shouted out loud.
He was heard by Jill, through the noisy crowd.
To pay for the drinks, he pulled out his wallet.
It was full of money, witnessed by the trollop.
He paid the bill and it went back in his pocket.
She stood beside him and pretended to sneeze.
She removed the wallet with professional ease.
Not only was whoring her profession,
She could pick a pocket with perfection.
Reaching for his wallet to buy another round,
His pocket was empty, he sadly found.
A cowboy saw what Jill had done.
He recovered the wallet before she could run.
The moral of this story, you may find,
You're in luck if you have a sensitive behind.
| 
