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Enter Poem or Quote (Required)Required The cows is lowin' in the old corral and all the evenin' chores is done. Hank scraped the manure off'n his boots 'cause he's a fastidious son-of-a-gun. He drew his pay, jumped in his pickup and headed fer Clyde's Saloon, To quaff some brew, grab a gal er two and dance to the fiddler's tune! There was a hoedown at Clyde's where cowpokes met ever' Saturday night. There they danced, boozed and let off steam that usually ended in a fight! There was a band with drums, banjo, fiddle, bass and a steel git-tar, And the pianer player Mike McGurk (when they could pry him from the bar!) A gal named Mousy Bush sang with a voice that quivered like Robin Hood's bow. That's where Hank hung out Saturday nights to blow his hard-earned dough! Hank was dancin' the Texas Two Step and havin' the time of his life, When an incident occurred that occasioned another night of strife. Some dude splattered a Coors on Hank's new Calvin Klein shirt and jeans. Now, stuff happens and normally this wouldn't amount to a hill of beans, But this got Hank's dander up and since he never held his hootch all that well, He punched the guy, bloodied his schnoz and began a-raisin' hell. A grand brawl ensued with ever'one tossin' punches, chairs and tables. There was a heap of cussin' with patrons lablin' others with tawdry lables! Hank arose Sunday mornin' with a poundin' headache and two black eyes, But he'll be back at Clyde's Saturday next to enjoy a hoedown with the guys! Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired (c) 2014 All Rights Reserved (Not for the contest)
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