Yesterday, in direct sunlight, after shoveling dirt, asphalt, and gravel most of the day (and also a lot of swearing) I started to understand why slaves used to sing while working all day in the fields, when for no reason at all, I got a song in my head--much like one of the spirituals of old, but a little on the bawdy side--and it made the work a little more tolerable.
I'll be slingin some gravel
When Jesus swings his gavel,
and they'll lock me outside of the pearly gates
cause I'd been usin some words
in place of "sex" and "turds"
that would bring a rudy blush to mother's face.
So I'll be slinging some gravel
when Satan plucks my apple
and puts my vulgar soul back in its place.
i miss soder songs...
ReplyDeleteThe camp-side favorite from Ohio " Big Fat Hog" will also permanently ban you from the celestial country club. And I will join you in exile because I have laughed everytime I hear or think of that ingenious little diddy.
ReplyDeletePlease take time to share that charming opus with your friends outside Buckeye Nation.
I wrote that one sitting on Clint's steps one day in 1997 waiting for him to get ready to go out and playing his guitar. I guess idle hands are the devil's playground.
ReplyDelete