Whit's Grill

Whit's secret recipe for brunswick stew
He stirs then turns to say I know what I'll do
I'll sell this place and work my gum machines
Won't have to match social securities
Or listen to yous talkin back to me
Just you wait and see

Another hangover stokes my nerves
Doreen shines, wiggles and curves
She's showing just a little leg
Lights a cigarette and takes a drag
She just got back from Winnepeg
Whit barks at me to scramble some eggs

Don't know nothing about class
Or traveling abroad or polishing brass
My boss, he looks just like a polar bear
He's fat and powerful and built to scare
Lonely creatures in a world that don't care
Sticking it to 'em with savoir faire

Once you see it's a hoax
You got to sliders and curves
Shuckin and jivin to keep up nerve
This path here may lead nowhere
But it's got soul and it don't stare
With friends like Doreen, you can make repairs
Helluva pair, long golden blonde hair

Don't like living on welfare
But for Christmas I got some long underwear
I ain't no dignitary, ain't no mayor
Ain't got a prayer but I got a spare
No earthenware or mohair armchair
But there's a six in the frigidaire
There's a six in the frigidaire
There's a six in the frigidaire

words & music by Bruce Piephoff, Piephoff Music, ASCAP 2012