My mom always said, "Don't pick your nose."
But I did it anyway and it was gross.
That grin on my face was worth a dime,
'cause I got it out, at pickin' time.
Got it out, at pickin' time!

There's drainage down my throat and snot in my nose;
I feel stuffed up right down to my toes.
I know that mucous is past its prime,
But I'll blow it out, come pickin' time.
Blow it out, come pickin' time.

Every night before I go to bed,
I blow my nose to try and clear my head.
A big, fat booger is beatin' my time,
But I'll get him out, come pickin' time.
Get him out, come pickin' time.

I blow so hard, my eyes bulge out;
The vein in my forehead could burst, no doubt.
I can rest assured that this condition of mine
Will greatly improve, come pickin' time.
Greatly improve, come pickin' time.

It's yellow and green and sticky as gum.
Can't get it with my finger, I'll get it with my thumb.
But, pretty soon, I'll be feelin' fine,
'cause it'll all be out, come pickin' time.
All be out, come pickin' time.

My red bandana is soppin' wet;
I'm afraid my sinuses will kill me yet.
When it starts to flow, I'll take it as a sign,
That I'll get the rest, come pickin' time.
Get the rest, come pickin' time.

My old nose barely holds it all;
It fills with snot from winter till fall.
My handkerchief is filled with grime,
But it'll get washed, after pickin' time.
Yeah, it'll get washed, after pickin' time.

She's afraid to touch my hanky after pickin' time.
I hope she'll wash it after pickin' time.
Do you think she'll kiss me after pickin' time?
I'll feel a right smart better after pickin' time.


Kathleen McCoy Eldridge©
November 14, 2007
All Rights Reserved








 


She'll Be Comin' Round The Mountain
Sequencer Unknown To Me