Tuesday, August 9, 2011

Ballad of a Triple-A Feller


I went to see my banker
To score a little loan.
I offered up the trailer
My daddy used to own.
He shook his head and grunted,
He showed me to the door,
And carried on a little bit
About my credit score.

I had to tell my daughter
She can’t get newer clothes,
And tell my pretty woman
She can’t replace her nose.
I’ve gone from twelve- to six-packs,
And quit my daily dip.
But now the night is callin
For me to let ’er rip.

Chorus:
’Cause I’m a triple-A feller
With a double-A wife,
And a single-A trailer,
And a broken Bowie knife.
And I don’t give a hoot
What the bankers have to say,
’Cause my momma always told me
I’m a golden triple-A.

My friends are gettin tired
Of payin for my beers.
My neighbors have been countin
Their chickens and their steers.
The ’lectric company’s callin
’Bout every other day,
But I ain’t gettin worried
On what they got to say.

Chorus:
’Cause I’m a triple-A feller
With a double-A wife,
And a single-A trailer,
And a broken Bowie knife.
And I don’t give a hoot
What the bankers have to say,
’Cause my momma always told me
I’m a golden triple-A.

I owe a bit on taxes
My wife forgot to pay,
And Rent-A-Center’s callin
About the new buffet.
And now my boy is sayin
He’s got a hurtin tooth,
I guess we’ll have to pull it –
And that’s the gospel truth.

Chorus:
’Cause I’m a triple-A feller
With a double-A wife,
And a single-A trailer,
And a broken Bowie knife.
And I don’t give a hoot
What the bankers have to say,
’Cause my momma always told me
I’m a golden triple-A.

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