There’s
a red chicken chasin’ a grasshopper.
One
fryin’ in the fryin’ pan.
Whippoorwills
calm the dyin’ day.
Drinkin’
cold beer from a can.
There’s
red dirt on my weary brow,
As
I survey my serene domain,
Dogs
chasin’ kids, and kitty cats,
Cows
grazin’ on the plain.
And
all the crops are planted,
And
all the hay is cut and baled.
The
cows are fat and happy,
Bills
are paid, and in the mail.
Little
darlin’s in the kitchen
Hummin’
a country western song,
She
says ya’ll get cleaned up now,
For
supper won’t be long.
But
I can’t rise from this rockin’ chair,
And
quit this peace of mind,
For
I can surly tell you,
This
feelin’s hard to find.
So
darlin’ give me one more minute,
Of
this sunset’s last array,
Let
me paint my memory,
From
the colors of a perfect day.