Classic Poem

Oh well it's our Father who art in Heaven
The preacher owed me ten dollars, he paid me seven
Thy Kingdom come
Thy Will be done
If I hadn't took the seven, Lord, I wouldn'ta gotten none

Had to fight him about it

What he owed me

My money

Yeah.

Well some folks say 'bout a preacher wouldn't steal
I caught about eleven in the water melon field
Just a cuttin' and a slicin', got to tearing up the vine
They's eating and talking most all the time

They was hungry

They'll rob you brother — yeah . . .

Save my vine

Don't rob me

Yeah

My melon

Yeah.

Oh well you see a preacher lay behind the log
A hand on the trigger, got his eye on the hog
The hog said 'mmm
The gun said zip
Jumped on the hog with all his grip

He had pork chops

Yeah

And backbone

And spare ribs

Yeah.

Now when the good Lord set me free
Now when I first was over to Memphis Tennessee
I was crazy 'bout the preachers as I could be
I went out on the front porch a-walking about
I invite the preacher over to my house
He washed his face, he combed his head
And next thing he wanted to do was slip in my bed
I caught him by the head, man, kicked him out the door
Don't: allow my preacher at my house no more

I don't like 'em

They'll rob you

Steal your daughter

Take your wife from you

Yeah

Eat your chicken

Taken your money

Yeah

They'll rob you

Make change on you

Yeah.

Hey, Mona

In the morning

Yeah

Steal the spare ribs

If they're still there

Yeah.

Now when the good Lord set me free