darn it, i said to myself, how'd i end up here, yet again!
banished from the a/c in the house to sit in the hot sun
back-tracking over what happened today, i mimic her voice
"get your butt out of my kitchen, jule; and do not walk, run!

well, maybe not in those exact words; but i heard it anyway,
i learned from my darlin' many years ago, how to figure it out 
a sweet, petite copper haired gal, green-eyes on freckled-face
don't ever challenge or tease my coquette, if her lips form a pout.

just like a big ol' goof-ball, me; i forgot my own sacred rule
woke up in a silly mood, thought it'd be fun to tickle her fancy
i knew she was in the midst of meticulous ("anal") preparation
fixing stuff for dinner, i knew in the kitchen i'd find my nancy.

here's where it gits sticky; i never felt the ill wind blow in,
straight to the kitchen and hung there, didn't go in or out;
and i didn't smell the fertilizer as it inched toward the fan,
so busy copying her akimbo stance, i forgot all about the pout.

friends, we're way past sticky; we're travelling barrel bullet-fast.
she was so busy, preoccupied and staring at some big ol' pan;
well, i was gonna get her attention, no big pan was gonna stop me!
my original plan was tickle her fancy, and tickled fancy it would be.

she never looked up or saw me coming as i bounded like a buffoon,
into the room, foot slipping, fell flat on my butt, kicked a chair that
tipped over that darn pan at the edge of the table, dough covering floor.
i started to speak, stopped when i saw her face; i'd entered nancy hell!

it gets a little blurry after, and before i knew it, i'm here on the hill.
before leaving, i found out why she got so mad, normally wouldn't be.
she had her eye on winning a contest, a new recipe she wanted to try,
got up early, worked real hard; and her crepe suzette ended up on me.

i can hear y'all laughing, but i tell you, it's not so funny now to me!
sitting here on this red dirt ant-bed of a hill, under this damned tree!