Jack Helm was a racist S.O.B.
Who wore the grey and favored slavery.
He even did wrong
Over a Yankee song
That a black man whistled with bravery.
And when there was no Civil War,
You could find him with a star that he bore
In the great state of Texas
Where he hated the Mex’s,
And everyone else that’s for sure.
Helm got caught-up in the Sutton-Taylor feud;
The type of duty that befit his evil mood.
A prime instigator,
He was head regulator,
And the days he didn’t kill he’d sulk and brood.
His body count raised his reputation.
The Governor even gave him a new station.
But when deeds come to light
Causing citizen’s fright,
He’s sent back to DeWitt for the duration.
John Wesley Hardin was one of Helm’s foes:
A kin to the Taylor’s, or so the story goes.
Several times they met,
Their back-ups vented and wet,
Yet Hardin and Helm escaped the death throes.
But in eighteen-seventy-three, in the month of July,
The two evil rivals would have one more try.
Helm came from the rear,
Hardin turned with a sneer,
To blast Helm with buckshot: his day to die.