I heart tell of this fella Bob Geldolf –
leastwise a man called “Yesirbob”
by folks aplenty up round the minin’ camps.

Seems that those who know him personal
have a deep respect and trust —
and them that cross his path
squinteyed of mind er heart soon learn
the ‘yesir’ part –

an’ there’s a story adrift
‘bout how he be a ‘Sir’ by right –
a knight I mean from ‘over there’ somewhere
afore he came to the diggin’s…
and I can attest to his doftin’ hat
to ladies fair and less;
an’ that he has a sword in the swirly cane,
and ain’t feared a nothin’.

I saw him but once, seein’ I was just passin’ through –
he was sittin’ ‘gainst the wall of the saloon –
tip back chair to enjoy the croud viewing,
but wasn’t drinkin’ – just kinda thinkin’ –
perhaps rememb’rin’ some gal or such –
an’ I called out ta see if he was up fer
joinin’ our game o’ cards ‘an chattin’.

said he’d pass on that, right friendly like –
the brought his chair next the table corner
and tossed a coin on the table
that spun in the lantern light …

“I’ll sweeten the pot though,
just to listen to your tales …
I always pay the ferryman.”

This lanky gent to my left got up and left –
just folded his cards and left his bet
and went a cursin’ out the door –
and that coin came to wobblin’ rest;
and middlin’ past Bob left too –
“to water his horse,” he said..

an’d the piano gal began singin’ a ballad,
‘bout how a man killed a gambler
fer cheatin’ in a pocker game
and had to hide in the shadows of time …

and why, fer me the phrase “yesirbob”
means “this deal is fair and done.”

but it’s a story anyways.