A byline for Buntline came after a Navy hitch
First in Cincinnati, then to Nashville he did switch
With a sensational rag
Ned Buntline's Own mag
Where some called him, "genius," and some, "son of a bitch"
Charged with murder in forty-six, a mob took Buntline to lynch
Before a trial they grabbed a noose and tightened it to pinch
They strung him up high
But he didn't die
And the whole affair soon had a stench
They found him "not guilty" on his day in court
And the mob would now like to go back and abort
"We're sorry as heck
For the scar on your neck
We'd each like to buy you a rye whiskey quart"