Louisiana Boy

The catawbas croaked till morn
When we go in fishing?
Percy's asleep on his steering column horn
Dreaming, searching, not thinking and wishing

I stepped on a nail barefoot
But I had to hurry up
I worked the yard as hard as I could
If I was late Percy would have pups

He held up his charm of magic
But would never let me see it
When the sun sets it is tragic
All the catawbas go into a croaking fit

When we go in fishing today?
Truck ain't broke down or nothing
All the catawbas have pillars for bait
But Percy got drunk and started cussing

It was late afternoon so I went normal
Tried to keep tangent from the things I saw
This time the sun did it formal
I guess it felt like dressing up for no reason at all

- Boston, 1990

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