Tumbleweeds For Brains
That Woody wanted to see me ASAP,
So we done met near downtown at the KFC.
He says he wants to tell me something FYI,
About some new TFB sorta cowboy guy.
“TFB?” I asks, “You talkin’ ‘bout an IOU
Or that BYOB barn dance the boss done threw?”
“Naw,” says Wood, “TFB means tumbleweeds for brains—
I guess you fills the bill if I has to explains!”
“Cowboy,” says I, “does you sees my FIST?
Well, I’m here to tell you its for a smart SOB
That thinks talkin’ in letters is on the QT,
When all it will get is a stone carved RIP!”
Wood took out runnin’ without my RSVP,
Hopped in his SUV like a rock star on MTV.
He headed back to the ranch through BLM land
With me right behind ‘em – was more than he could stand!
I trailed ‘em to Tombstone and that OK Corral
And when I caught ‘em, I was gonna show ‘em how
My ol’ tumbleweeds for brains done brung me so far
And just why he was gonna soon need CPR!
But his mouth was movin’ a hundred RPM—
Afraid I was gonna then and there do ‘em in!
“Now, Stoney,” he says, “on one point we do agree,
I was just speakin’ plain and not bein’ PC!”
Then ‘fore I hauls back my fist and he has a BM,
I gets to thinkin’ how he had always been a friend.
Well, we had done been the best pards before this mess—
So we just shook hands and called it male PMS!
Copyright © Glen Enloe | Year Posted 2006
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