The Folly Llama- Heart

Another One

an original country lyric

Pon Far

(to the Beatles' "Hey Jude")

Pon far
I got it bad
It’s a sad song
Hope it gets better

Year seven
Ain’t heaven here in my heart
Wish it would part
Would make things better

Pon far
Makes folks afraid
If you bring soup
It makes me angered

I’ll fling it
The bowl will zoom at your head
If it were bread
It might be safer

And every time I feel the pain
Pon far’s
Insane
I long for the heat of home called Vulcan

Till then my loins will never cool
Pon far
Will rule
Stay clear and be safe while I am copin’

Pon far
Please beam me down
Warmy weather
Won’t need no sweater

I’m tethered
To lady, sans a good heart
She wants no part
She likely loves leather

I’ll fight it out with Cap’n Jim
And he
Won’t win
Some maiming for someone I have worked with

I did not know that doc would do
Some med
Kung fu
And suddenly fight is quickly over

Pon far
It makes me sad
All the mad things
They make me wonder

If maybe,
The urge to mate would be oft
Wouldn’t be cross
I’d like that better, better, better, better, oh…..

My Rutabaga Rose Out of Salt Lick

(to the Rolling Stones "I Know It's Only Rock and Roll But I Like It")

She be the chick
Who stomped on my heart
And served it up like a fillet
Cooked me in the fryer,
Threw me in the fire
Then she sang the song La Grange.
Unrestray-ay-yaned.

“Pass me the blender,”
Says she so tender.
“And pass that turpentine.”
She would blend it up
With some greenish stuff
Then she drinks up and sighs,
“Satisfie-ay-yide!”

There goes the Rutabaga Rose out of Salt Lick
There goes the Rutabaga Rose out of Salt Lick, my chick through and through
My belle,
A fight chick
A bright chick
The right chick
I say she’s my tease and I’m her toy,
She kinda owns me.

Her temp’rament
We’ll say is bizarre
Dual sides she will display
Beating bikers up, see her playin’ tough
Cool it down with lemonade
She’s a da-yay-yame.

See her so hip
She flows a la carte
Stockings both pink and crocheted
Boots with pretty flowers
Smells of curry powder
Jacket with her web domain
‘Not_munday-yay-yane.'

I love that Rutabaga Rose out of Salt Lick
I love that Rutabaga Rose out of Salt Lick, my chick through and through
My belle
A snide chick
A dyed chick
A wide chick
I say she’s the freak and I’m her boy
She kinda owns me.

And don’t ya know that she’s the pretty girl in tow-ohh-oun
With all her teeth you know she grins and then I’ll meow-ow.

I love my Rutabaga Rose out of Salt Lick
I love my Rutabaga Rose out of Salt Lick
I love my Rutabaga Rose out of Salt Lick
I love my Rutabaga Rose out of Salt Lick, my chick through and through

Copyright 2010 Warren Baker