Tuesday, October 03, 2006

Country Music Poetry

Ready, Set, Smoke A Cigarette!

A beer in one hand,
A Bible in the other.
Drivin' to the prison yard
To visit my ole mother.
Those welfare checks
Were a government tease.
They got you mostly everything
'Ceptin' what you need.
Knockin' off the corner store
Seemed the thing to do
To equalize the landscape,
To back off the screw.
So, momma, I don't blame you-
For doin' what you did.
I'm gonna always love you
'Cause I'm your only kid.
This here cake is meant for you
And all that is within it,
Bless the holy name
Of sweets and 90 minutes
Of filing through the steel
Blowing away shavings,
I'll meet you at the tracks
Just beyond the bayou.
I'll bring whiskey and a Bible
Slake your thirst in a revival
We all gotta do what we all gotta do.