Pain worse than a week ago,
but this has been one of my best working weeks ever—
digging with my grabin’ hoe.
A lot of time planning my show,
not counting the time endeavoring
to sing through pain a bit less than I’m experiencing now.
The sow got the measles anyhow,
and the thread of her life was severed
in spring when we’re all busy planting with our grabin’ hoe.
I’d say, that’s all there is there ain’t no mo',
but I need to prove I can easily recover
from pain that gets somewhat worse as the days go.
by. I’m getting lots done (though I’m layin' low),
because I can hammer like a woodpecker
and I bake only what I grind myself with my fiddle bow—
just a po’ boy going with the flow.
She died of a fever and no one could save her—
the sow, that is—pain worse than a week ago.
I’m starting to blame my grabin’ hoe.
