Country Pickles
I was picken' pickles from the barrel,
I did pluck pickles from the barrel deep,
When the sun beat on my face,
Methought myself entangled in a pickle.
Fresh and crisp, pickles are tasty when I'm feelin' fine.
They're homegrown pickles, such delights,
Humble yet divine.
Sour at times, earthen green,
Still doth their savor in mine heart combine
Today's a day for sweet pickles.
Don't forget that tasty bites are comin' round.
This day, my pickles do bestow
Tang and coolness, both sweet and sour,
And you're gonna be fooled
By old country spices dashing up my caprices
Such bite-sized pieces are rolling down the road
Such rustic spices cheer the weary whilst rolling forth.
Sweet and sour, a country maid doth bless
Each pickle she beholds; her joy she doth confess.
Every pickle is flavored with a dash of truth.
Every pickle takes her to the Fountain of Youth.
Let the tasting now begin.
Each delight, youth's fair fountain draws near.
Each pickle is seasoned with fear.
The world's like a green pickle
Tangy and cool, sweet and sour, but
You're gonna be fueled by
Bites for your savory day.
So let's taste them along the way
Fresh and crisp, the pickle pleaseth me always.
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