Yarn

I’ve turned full southern so sit on my front porch

Have some sweet tea spiked with home brew moonshine

Wave at the cars passing by, it’s Sunday

People coming home from church, I’ve got the radio on

Tinfoil on the antenna so I can catch the hill music from over yon

We can slip off our shoes, prop up our feet, 

The kids running around in the yard as they are too young for adult speak

I pet my viidoo flamingo, the one the neighbors hate it secretly desire

As the day gets hotter the more lies we tell

As the sweet tea gets drunk I’ll tell you tall tales

As the absent street lamps light up the truth finally comes out

I’ll take you inside and leave the bathroom light on

We can continue this next week after my wife forgives these minor wrongs

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