Runnin' toward the outhouse A tuggin' at my britches Et too much fer supper My belly's got the twitches Settin' in the toilet I mull over a lot o' things Whilst I'm 'bout my business Ah, the relief it brings Our outhouse is a modern one Don't use them cobs no more Now, we use a catalog That comes from that big store Whilst I'm a settin' and a ponderin' I look at all the purty pages I like the women's underwear With the bows and frills and laces I go a trudgin' to the outhouse Through the rain an' heat an' snow No use a dreadin' it, I reckon When ya gotta go, ya gotta go Now hitchin' up my overalls Guess I done all I can do My belly's now calmed down a mite Looks like I'm all through Fer the time I been a settin' here Shore done me a lot o' thinkin' Gotta go git me some air now 'Cause somethin' in here is a stinkin' Kathleen McCoy Eldridge© March 12, 2007 All Rights Reserved Click here to Share This Page

Back Map



Next Mail

  Man Of Constant Sorrow
Sequenced by Margi Harrell

Special Thanks to Bev at Moon & Back Graphics & Photography