Take a deep breath, folks
You can smell it in the air
It’s that country-Style Vittles
That everyone’s waiting to share
Guys dressed up as cowboys
Oh look at that mustache there
Hats perched on their heads
Nobody has a head that’s bare
Got the campfires burning
The grill pans heated just so
From the smoldering beneath them
Coals with that perfect orange glow
Buzzing voices around us
The food’s getting the most attention
We can hardly stand it as we
Hold our plates with anticipation
So join us if you can, folks
The band’s starting up the fiddles
‘Cause it’s almost time to eat
Those down home Country-Style Vittles!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem