Here’s the not:
HOG MEAT AND WHISKEY
(Poole, Poole, and Moore;
Ridgeville Publishing, ASCAP)
You packed up the pickup
And snuck out in the night
Our doublewide was empty
By the dawns early light
I know that since you been gone
Youre doin better by far
I'm eatin hog meat and drinkin whiskey
You got champagne and caviar
CHORUS
Hog meat and whiskey
Is what I live on
Hog meat and whiskey
Every since you been gone
Jimmy Dean and Jim Beam
have both moved in with me
We all sit there together
and watch my TV
Jim says "Come go with me
And I say "Allright, then
I take a pull from the bottle
And have some hog meat, my friend
Chorus
My liver has been ravaged
Cholesterols off the chart
I"m livin just like a savage
at this old trailer park
I say I’m gonna get better
But I know thats a lie
Its Hog meat and whiskey
Till the day that I die
Chorus
Chorus
Here’s the Serious:
The 31st Edition of the Ridge Expedition
by Fred Hardwick
The thirty-first edition of the Ridge Expedition
started out with handshakes all around.
Old friends hoped this year'd be snow,
staring at the woods below,
then ran inside to claim where they'd bed down.
We'd just set fire to some logs
and heard some gunfire in the fog
and knew that Sibley'd bagged one at sundown.
The only haggling done out there
is deer meat hanging in the air
when friends for life again do come around.
The thirty-first edition of the Ridge Expedition
headed to Elisha's for the feast.
He built Juanita a big chateau.
She serves mimosas and beer to go.
We'll always be her boys at fifty-three.
Elisha has a new pop-gun,
fifty caliber just for fun.
We fired it at an anvil in the rain.
It stirs our blood and takes us back
to southern fields and big deer tracks,
and fires our boilers like the Greenville train.
The thirty-first edition of the Ridge Expedition
turns boys to men and men to boys again.
The years are passing quietly,
but we know most assuredly
the Ridge will hold us steady till the end.
And this:
| Leroy |
| Leroy round up your hounds and we’ll head out at dawn. The boys are all here and a year of this waiting’s too long. You’re looking good for your eighty-third year, Legs holding up and your eyes are still clear, And you’re gonna be mighty proud of the meat I bring home. Tell me again how there’s nothing so fast or as strong. “Well, he made a great thunder; when I shouldered my gun he was gone.” Leroy, you lunatic dreamer. “He’s damn near big as this side of the state.” You say it’s ole Pap and you swear he was here yesterday. Southern fields put a spell on you in winter, And you find something lost in your veins. The rhythm of your ancient heart beats a secret weary call To a young boy on the Serengeti plains. Meet us at Juanita road and we’ll take Carter hill. “Then push on and cross into Crenshaw land for the kill.” Leroy, you know you’re a schemer, A tracker and a liar and a lifelong friend, I’ll follow right into your tales of the woods once again. Southern fields put a spell on you in winter, And you find something lost in your veins. The rhythm of your ancient heart beats a secret weary call To a young Murani warrior on the plains. Leroy round up your hounds and we’ll head out at dawn. Oh, Leroy, please round up your hounds One more time for me. |
