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PonyboyThough your gal she may spoon with some punch underneath the moon, remember the mail must go through.A hundred miles behind me and twenty miles to go, San Antone is nearer than before.I wonder if she's waiting, I wonder if she ain't, maybe she don't live there anymore.Ponyboy, Ponyboy, get a-going, remember we're counting on you.Though your gal misbehaves while you're fighting,off the braves, remember the mail must go through.All my miles behind me hit San Antone today, saddled weary from my prairie trek.But I'm a happy cowboy, my gal is on my knee, hugging me with her arms around my neck.Ponyboy, Ponyboy, get a-going, got orders to start out anew.Pack your broncs, say goodbye to the apple of your eye.Remember the mail must go through.Remember the mail must go through.