Wuss in Boots

[couchgrouch]

Wuss in BootsIn the backwoods of Alabamadown a holler deep n darkthere sits a tin-roof tavernthat serves counterfeit Cutty Sarkwell, we were yellin' and toastin'when through that plywood doorwalked a Boston dandystompin' his boots on the floorhe was a wuss in bootswearing a vinyl vestmy aunt's got more hair on her chinthan he's got on his chesta city boy don't belongat no southern jukewhat he was doin' was risky,a fish outta watera fool outta whiskeyhe was a wuss in bootswatching spaghetti westernsjust left him limp as a noodleand those knock-off Redwingswere like a sweater on a poodlehe ordered our strongest whiskeywith a tip of his pleather hathe wasn't the outlaw Josey Wales, nohe was Josie and the Pussycatshe was a wuss in bootswearing a vinyl vestmy aunt's got more hair on her chinthan he's got on his chesta city boy don't belongat no southern jukewhat he was doin' was risky,a fish outta watera fool outta whiskeyhe was a wuss in bootshe saw the bottle on the tablehad a rebel flag for a labelhe showed us a badge in his shaky handcos that yankee was a revenue manbut our bootleg concoctionwas just a bit too stouthe was whipping out his handcuffswhen he wobbled and passed outwe thought we'd teach that taxmanabout our rebel rootsso we cuffed him to a pine treewearing nothing but those bootshe was a wuss in bootswithout his vinyl vestmy aunt's got more hair on her chinthan he's got on his chesta city boy don't belongat no southern jukewhat he was doin' was risky,a fish outta watera fool outta whiskeyhe was a wuss in boots(c)2004 Robert George