Small Town Cook

[couchgrouch]

Small Town CookWell, it was almost eight o'clockthe greens were steamed...the hash was hotthe roast was tender in the potthen somehow my mind sailed back in timeto Dad's old southern dinerDad taught me about turnips n greensso when I turned eighteenI got lucky in the Marineschopping carrots for a hungry barracksjust like back in Carolinayeah, a small town cookjust tryin' to make a livin'hoping if I diedmy life would get me to heavenin the cabinet where spices are keptthere's a copy of the Good Bookcos I know I'm just worththe salt of the earthyeah, I'm a small town cookgot out and wanted a diner of my ownbut without money I couldn't get a loanand if I was gonna keep a wife and homefor their sake I'd hafta takea job no one else wantedwell, it was nine...the roast was outhe wanted it fixed just like down southI tried to free my mind of doubtcos thoughts like that turn hearts blackand leave them forever hauntedyeah, a small town cookjust tryin' to make a livin'hoping if I diedmy life would get me to heavenin the cabinet where spices are keptthere's a copy of the Good Bookcos I know I'm just worththe salt of the earthI'm a small town cookroast beef, hash and greensin his spot I'd want the same thingI stood in that kitchen in a hazy dreamthen began to cry fixing him turnip piesprinkled with slivered almondssome guys wait around to see the showthe guard asked me but I whispered "no"driving home I pulled off the roadthinking of collards and Carolina hollersand what a killer might have in commonwith a small town cookjust tryin' to make a livin'hoping if I diedmy life would get me to heavenin the cabinet where spices are keptthere's a copy of the Good Bookcos I know I'm just worththe salt of the earthI'm a small town cook(c)2005 Robert George