CALL ANYTIME
Old school pals in California call up at 3am
And ask me, "Guess who this is?" or do I remember them?
Calf buyers, tractor dealers dial my number just past dawn.
Do I want to buy Farm Journal? Need house siding? Greener lawn?
How about health insurance? Do I need a hired hand?
The surveyors for the power line need access to my land.
From Morpheus arms they jerk me. I stumble to the phone
I stub a toe, step on the cat but stifle back a moan
As they ask me, "Did I wake you?" I lie and tell 'em,
"Nope."
Though my brain cells need a timing light; my mouth a shot of
Scope.
I won't admit to sleeping. I reject the thought with dread.
It violates the Cowboy Code being caught asleep, in bed.
I'll play my role with flannel mouth, with brain fuzzed to the
hilt,
So call me at ungodly hours and I'll deal with the guilt.
Cowboy Curmudgeon by Wallace McRae |