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Enter Poem or Quote (Required)Required Overtime Again by Dave Stinnett What is it about this temperature you always keep so hot You always want to “fire me up”, when you’re getting’ all I’ve got, I spend my whole life cookin’ things I know you’ll never eat, There’s more than iron that’s melting from this God forsaken heat, It’s me, your oven, on overtime again. I hope you’re making money for all the time we spend Makin’ smoke, red coals and hotter fires to help our steel post bend, I’m always there to heat it up, it’s overtime again. I’ve built up quite a friendship with a piece of iron today He guessed you messed up several times from the things he heard you say, Your banging, swearing, apron wearing times about to end if I Hear that you are blaming your mistakes on me again. It’s me, your oven, on overtime again. I hope you’re making money for all the time we spend makin’ Smoke, red coals and hotter fires to help our steel post bend, I’m always there to heat it up, it’s overtime again. Last year I almost called it quits, when you stoked me at the “Farm” I’ve always had the hottest fire to heat the hardest “arn” But you really hurt my feelings when my door swung open wide And I saw a pair of hot dogs on a hanger poked inside It’s me, your oven, on overtime again. I hope you’re making money for all the time we spend Makin’ smoke, red coals and hotter fires to help our steel post bend, I’m always there to heat it up, it’s overtime again. It’s not the jalapenos I cooked with your burritos It’s not the jalepenos I feel burning deep within.
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