Not so far south
In a dirty-roaded holler
Lived a crim and a witch
Neither one worth a dollar
Shot and parboiled every bird
Not a single singer left
Creepy-quiet in the cleft
They called the holler
No water, no electric
For sure no waste collection
So underneath the cabin
Dirty diaper/trash confection
To warm the stench-filled cabin
Its neighbor was dissected
Only ignorants collected
In the ditch they called the holler
In the forest, all the ginseng
Pulled up, dried and sold
The government gave dairy
But that wasn’t meat or gold
So they went “sengin’” for the cash
Turned it in for mountain mash
Drank enough to fry his ass
On the burner, in the kitchen in the holler
You may think this tale is tripe
I think so too, but it’s all true
And my advice to you
Avoid the crims and witches
In the holler
Leave a Comment