at the bottom of the barrel where the shit gets stirred
where the women are all crazy and the men are absurd.

i could have rhymed with terd.

for christ's sake, will you get to the point?

out in the garage, it is hot as fuck.
but i still go out there three times a day
and sit in my truck.

i fire one up and throw one down
and if i had a friend in sight
i'd pass it around.

my johnson grass is growing
i can see it by the fence
i ought to go and mow it
but gas is up 50 cents

(pause while i sing "Thunder Road")

cannot sustain concentration.
must watch golf and eat chinese food.

go phil,

scott