This poem was found in the 9th printing of the J.M. Capriola Co. catalog.
“WEALTH” by Steve Rone
My mansion’s on the hilltop
overlookin’ all my land,
there’s a tune-box on the mantle
that they call a “baby grand.”
Charlie Russells hang in every room,
there’s a carpet in the bath,
and it takes my help just twenty days
to mow the front yard grass.
I got horses at the racetrack,
and papers on my mutts,
and a solid gold belt buckle
fer ta’ hold up this here gut.
My hats are made in England,
and my boots are made in Spain,
I buy my clothes in Dallas,
and Boeing made my plane.
Garcia made the silverware,
Gary Gist the plates and patters,
Frank Hanson made the napkin rings
fer when Cookie slings the batter
I own the Cowboy Coffee shop,
an’ the Caddie dealership,
I own the local auction yard,
an’ cops give me no lip.
My cowboys rope an’ drag the calves
and wood supplies the fire.
Two teams of mules drag the wagons ’round,
and they’re up on rubber tires.
My chopper flies in ice each day
to cool the pop and beer,
’cause it gets a little warm, you see,
when my boys are makin’ steers.
My pick-up’s made by Rolls Royce
with longhorns on the grill,
yeah, life is pretty dandy
away up on the hill.
Now I’m just a saddlemaker
so how’d I get so rich an’ sloppy?
Why, by sellin’ saddle catalogs
at five dollars fer a copy!