In the late night
the lady rose and asked
where is that wild buck new to the stable
Not there anymore the night air in waiting replied
then don't just stand there the lady said
Go fetch me me my faithful Italian stallion quick
for I must ride tonight and he is mine
Look at me can you not see
I have toiled in the greens and tilled gardens
have fetched woods for seven sisters
and walked in hissy fit down the lane
my lips are sore and my fingers ache a times
so now go fetch me my Italian stallion and let me ride
he's mine and I can do as I please
That buck in hue of regal coal is wild and strong
an Arab king mare, big and mean, if ever there;s one
with flanks like rocks and a back straight and hard
oh! to ride him over the hills in wanton abandon delight
galloping up and down with my thighs gripping that smooth skin
Alas I fear I may do damage to my fair and tender laps
go fetch me my Italian stallion, my trained and gentle mare
Yes, he will do as told and he's always there
tells me only what I want to hear and never bite or nip
his mane I like and his neigh makes me laugh like a drain
he's not an Arabian mare and enjoys backing in and backing up
grease up the flanks and tell that Italian mare to come give it to me
that wild buck I fear will be too wild, that unbroken Arab Charger
cost too much and will take so much space I fear I may tear and die......