Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song The Front Porch Song, artist - Robert Earl Keen. Album song No Kinda Dancer, in the genre Кантри
Date of issue: 09.08.2004
Record label: KOCH Entertainment
Song language: English
The Front Porch Song |
This old porch is a big ol’red and white Herford bull |
Standin’under a mesquite tree in Agua Dulce, Texas |
He keeps on playin’hide and seek with that hot august sun |
Sweatin’and a pantin’cause his work is never done |
Oh no, with those cows and a red top cane |
This old porch is a steamin’greasy plate of enchiladas |
With lots of cheese and onions ans a guacamole salad |
You can get them at the LaSalle Hotel in old downtown |
With ice tea and a waitress who will smile every time |
Oh yeah, I left a quarter tip on my ten dollar bill |
This old porch is a palace walk in on a main street in Texas |
It ain’t never seen or heard the days of G’s and R’s and X’s |
And that '62 poster that’s almost faded down |
And a screen without a picture since Giant came to town |
Oh no, I like those junior mints and the red hots too, yes I do This old porch is like a weathered grey haired seventy years of Texas |
Who’s doin’all he can not to give in to the city |
And he always takes my rent late so long as I run his cattle |
He picks me up at dinner time and I listen to him rattle |
He says the Brazos still runs muddy like she’s run all along |
There’s never been no cane to grind and the cotton’s all but gone |
You know this Chevrolet pickup truck, hell she was somethin’back in '60 |
But now there won’t nobody listen to him 'cause they all think he’s crazy |
This old porch is just a long time of waiting and forgetting |
Remembering the coming back and not crying about the leaving |
And remembering the falling down and the laughter of the curse of luck |
From all those son’s of bitches who said we’d never get back up This old porch is a big old red and white Herford bull |
Standing under a mesquite tree out in Agua Dulce |
He keep’s on playing hide and seek with that hot August sun |
He’s sweating and a panting 'cause his work is never done |
I’ve know a whole lot of bulls in my time, and there work is never done. |