Young Mr. Lincoln

Pretty, aren't they?
Got 'em up at Bowling Green's place.
You never saw anything
like 'em in your life...

sittin' there in the snow
like scared rabbits.

In fact, the woods are full of'em too.
Snow's nice, ain't it,
the way it's driftin'.

Ice is breakin' up.
It's comin' in to spring.
Well, Ann, I'm still up a tree.
Just can't seem to
make up my mind what to do.

Maybe I ought to go into the law,
take my chances.

I admit, I got kinda a taste...
for somethin' different than this
in my mouth.

Still, I don't know.
I'd feel such a fool...
settin' myself up
as a-knowin' so much.

Course, I know what you'd say.
I've been hearin' it every day,
over and over again.

"Go on, Abe.
Make somethin' of yourself.

You got friends.
Show 'em what you got in ya".

Oh, yes, I know what you'd say.
But I don't know.
Ann, I'll tell you what I'll do.
I'll let this stick decide.
If it falls back toward me,
then I stay here, as I always have.