Tony Hightower Bar B Q
There's an old lady, she lives on my floor She broke her hip last spring, she don't get out much anymore She's up with all the phone in hosts Though she don't care if she know 'em And it was for her that I wrote this poem. I ain't as old as I like to think I am Sometimes I still get that lively feeling I wanna clean the house or run a mile Or try to jump up and slap the ceiling Throw the furniture across the room Sing to myself a little out of tune Turn out the lights and hang a moon out the window at the neighborhood below I sent a postcard to Jeopardy! Last year It'd be a good excuse to get down to L.A. I won a freezerful of beef on a phone-in show My freezer's full but give it time, y'know When I'm on, my luck is out of sight But I work hard and I do alright So let's have a barbeque tonight at my house! If I sat down and counted my blessings I'd be cheating if I got past two or three So If I seem a bit wierded out sometimes Just smile and nod and humour me And this is Louie the Mute, say hello to him And Maxie makes shoes out of soda straws And that in the corner is Carlos; He's got the biggest collection of bullwhips I bet you've ever seen! And who cares if our friendship is discreet Or if it's mainly because of the meat Cos I'm completely happy tonight Well, pretty close. (Hey Carlos, can I touch them?)
