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SUNDAY
Just another Sunday morning
and it's already steaming hot
and I'm sittin' out here on the back porch
cause it's the coolest spot
Momma's cookin' breakfast
grits and eggs and ham
the old wood stove is burning hot
and we don't have no fan
Daddy's in the front room
a smokin' on his pipe
Momma says that he smokes up the house
and it just isn't right
Big sisters in the bed room
with the radio on full high
listning to some kind of music
sounds like they tryin' to die
It's just like every other week end
just ain't nuthin' going on
the old hound dogs laying over there
chewing on a ham bone
I hear them old hens a cackling
and the roosters crowing too
guess he's proud as punch
cause they laid an egg or two
little brother's playing marbles
out there in the yard
the old tom cat be chasingng hin
and they both be running hard
sure do wish it'd rain some
and settle down the dust
Momma says the rain ain't ours
don't do no good to fuss
Today they be a comin' to bail all Daddy's hay
guess we'll have to feed them all
sure does look that way
We ain't going to church this morning
the preacher's sick and got a cold
and Daddy says he ain't associating
with all them sinners in the fold
Guess I better sweep the porch
'fore Momma tells me to
and when I get the sweeping done
they'll be something else to do
Oh my, it sure is hot
down in this botton land
and I see an old black beetle crawling
zig zaggy in the sand
I hear Momma calling breakfast time
as we all get round the table
then Daddy says the blessing
and we eat till we ain't able
There's blaack coffee in the coffee pot
and good hot biscuits in the pan
and Momma hollers, did you'll wash up
I left clean water on the stand
I'm lookin' at an old brown hawk
just circuling the field
I bet he sees a little mouse
that's out looking for a meal
and I can see down Daddy's pasture
at that old lonesome pine
I bet it's stood for eighty years
right by it's self
down by the old fence line
Tomorrow Momma's canning black eyed peas
cause Daddy's crop came in
he says the crops shore good this year
best it's ever been
he said the drought didn't hurt it none
and the corn did really well
He said when Momma gets done with her canning
that he may have some corn to sell
oh it's shore lonely here this morning
and there ain't nothing here to do
guess I'll go walking down the lane
and catch a frog or two
I'd throw it on big sister
but she'd screm and split her dress
It would make the folks come runnin'
and I'd get a whippin', I guess
Maybe I'll just go down to the pond
and try to catch some fish
I wish I had some one to talk to
I shore wish
Oh well, it's just another Sunday--------
