Kentucky State Fair                 [Part 2 of my Bluegrass State Trilogy]

 

Original song lyrics by Chrome Dome Mike Kimbro

 

This is a relyrics of the song War Pigs by Black Sabbath, off their Paranoid album.

 

Please read along to my Spoken Verse Performance or my Sad Singing Attempt.

 

 

 

VERSE 1

 

Hey there! What up! From Kentucky.

 

Where we fellows are so lucky.

 

Gorgeous fillies at the State Fair.

 

Dark Shades hide the fact that we stare.

 

At pockets.     [Examples: #1, #2, #3, #4, #5]

 

 

 

VERSE 2

 

More than six weeks, we were confined.

 

Couldn't mingle. Some lost their minds.

 

Now America's unlocking.

 

In the summer, they'll come flocking.

 

To Fairgrounds.

 

 

VERSE 3

 

State Fair bound are Future Farmers.

 

Wearing face masks? Who knows for sure!?!

 

Life is laid back where it's rural.

 

Here in town, we bathe in Purell.

 

Quite nearly.

 

 

BRIDGE

 

Up every morning at the crack of dawn.

 

Tending to the needs of animals.

 

Diesel power! How the trailer's drawn.

 

There's no party quite like carnival.

                         

Beats New Years.

 

 

Lounging on a comfy bed of hay.

 

Better that their prospects, they don't know.

 

Anxious to hear just what judges say.

 

Happily, down the interstate they go.

 

Slug bug, yeah.

 

 

Steers are fattened for the Judgment Day.

 

Shame there's only one: Best In Show.

 

If one wins, folks get, like, two year's pay.

 

Big old breeding ranch, there he'll go.

 

The good life.

 

 

Cleaning up at all the Midway booths,

 

Carnie caught their eye. Hey, looking good.

 

Are they tested? Do they have the proof?

 

Best get all the answers. Yeah, you should.

 

From 6 feet.

 

 

When you get home, you must quarantine.

 

Down in the basement or the barn.

 

Read some verse, don't be a philistine.

 

You got 2 weeks, dude! What's the harm?

 

Now, slow down.

 

 

 

VERSE 3

 

Won't you listen to my warning.

 

All your kin could be in morning.

 

While your symptoms might not surface,

 

Disease vector now your purpose.

 

So listen.

 

 

 

VERSE 4

 

When you get home, avoid Nana,

 

And her sweet bread with banana.

 

Facetime her to show off ribbons.

 

Or else, place one on her coffin.

 

So long, bye.

 

 

The End.

 

 

Copyright Michael Kimbro 2020.  All rights reserved.