Old Man Prospector

Well, I'm from the old hills of Lemondrop Lane, were my mama would sew sticks to my pants to ensure the red dabber toads stayed away from us. Those toads are extinct now, but if you call the sound to this day in them hills, clusters of blue tailed crows will make their call and fly to the tops of the mountains! I never owned shoes then, just two pieces of oak bark and sap would be all you needed to protect your feet. You would have to set your toes on fire to get the sap to give at the end of the day, but we didn't have any feeling down there no how since it was the thing to sell your cyatic nerve to the dentists of the time. My father was a salesman. He would go door to door selling napkins my brother and I made out of pine needles and our own hair. It was easy to make since we had a paloonitacho. Those were hard to come by but we found one. In fact, we found two...and then won the prize! Now I am wandering from place to place, collecting pennies and selling what you call "urine" to private buyers. I hope I never run out of that stuff... !
************* Hey, you know, I's been writin' these here ditties fer years now n' am startin' to come clear t'the end of the thinkin' tunnel. If y'been thinkin' of a good subject fer a song, why don'ya let m'know! If I like it, I might even make a song out of 'er n' put it up on m'shiny myspace page! ************* !