Author Information
"Mr. Fogerty"
Folder:
Tributes by Jeph Johnson
I look out across the bayou
At the swampland that was ours
Dragging my dirty laundry through
All the honky-tonks and bars
through the black lagoon saloon
of karaoke and slow dance
If I don't end up with somebody soon
I might never get a chance
And I feel like Mr. Fogerty
Singin' songs about the south
With a banjo on his knee
And harmonica in his mouth
Gazing out across the Frisco bay
Dreamin' 'bout the alligators
Having it his way
in his mind;
sayin' "to hell with ya,
see ya later"
I'm now stranded in a laundromat
six miles from Baton Rouge
trying to iron my bolo flat
cryin' those good ol' delta blues
when from out from 'neath the washboard
comes a Skeeter bug a-dancin'
cuttin' a new rug across the floor
remindin' me of our romancin'
And I feel like Mr. Fogerty
Singin' songs about the south
With a banjo on his knee
And harmonica in his mouth
Gazing out across the Frisco bay
Dreamin' 'bout the alligators
Having it his way
in his mind;
sayin' "to hell with ya,
see ya later"
And the Insects and the Pollywogs
Dragonflies and Senor Toad
have invited Duck and Mister Frog
To come and cross the road
But it is only Chicken Little
Who decides to cross in time
The rest lay wait in riddles
rustling 'round rabid in my mind
