Keep Your Whip In Your Hand

Each man is like a noble steed;
When he's a colt I take him;
I lock him up and watch his feed,
In course of time I break him.
I hitch him to my little cart,
I hold the reins above him,
Flick lightly on some tender part,
To let him know I love him.
Then to the road, the public road, where ev'ry one may see,
What a big and beautiful, well-groomed animal now belongs to me!
Don't let him balk! Don't let him walk!
Give him to understand,
You have the say, he's to obey,
And keep the whip in your hand.
Each man is like a noble steed,
He's proud of his position,
And thinks because he's in the lead,
He runs the expedition.
Some one may envy you the brute,
And steal him, if they're able;
So ev'ry night, if you are cute,
You'll lock him in the stable.
The boulevard, so smooth and hard, is where you work him out,
But keep the blinders on him so that he can't look about.
Don't let him jump,— give him a thump;
Prove that you have the sand;
Show that you're game, he will be tame,
And learn to eat from your hand.
Crack! crack! Clickety clack!
Don't let him stumble or loaf or slack!
Crack! crack! Steady, Jack!
Keep the boy in the beaten track.
Whoa, boy! Slow, boy!
Gently give your command;
He will mind, if you're kind,
But keep your whip in your hand!