An old man is wistful about a family barbecue |
On the back porch he sat shucking the corn Groaning a little and looking forlorn. He told me, "This is what I want someone to do, Write a country song ‘bout heading to my last barbecue. I’ve got a pain in my back, can’t see, can’t hear. I’ve got a feeling my time’s getting near. I want my children close, grandchildren, too And all the great grands before I hold my last barbecue." He’s been a great provider, husband and dad, Always honest and decent, hardly ever mad. His upright life was a model to see. He was the kind of man his sons wanted to be. "I’m not complaining. I’ve had a good life. I’m proud of my family. I had a loving wife. She’s gone ahead of me to wait ‘til I’m due. Someday I’ll be going to my last barbecue. Until that day comes, I’ll tell all my stories Of days long ago with all of their glories. I’ll hold all the grandkids until I am through, Cause someday I’ll say goodbye at my last barbecue." He’s been a great provider, husband and dad, Always honest and decent, hardly ever mad. His upright life was a model to see. He was the kind of man his sons wanted to be. |