You can punch a large mouth bass in the gizzard 'til the crick runs dry,

but that don't mean yer daughter's hand-outlined turkey drawing's gonna win first prize at the Western Art Show and Rodeo.

You might can crack a few walnuts with a kickstand off yer old Huffy,

but don't expect that Barry Manilow's gonna mail'ya back the socks ya let'im borrow.

Dancin' at a hootnanny with a Charleston Chew in yer mouth's about as wise as tossin' a goose in a barnyard with an ornery ferret...

Next thing ya know, the ferret's gittin' freindly with yer new loafers and the goose done run off with the copy of Maxim you stole from Fantastic Sam's.

You can toot a kazoo under the high school stadium bleachers if yer lookin'ta pick up some street urchins,

but that don't mean Lynard Skynard's gonna send you a dictaphone message askin' you to become the 93rd member of their band.

You can punch a LSU fan in the gut if yer lookin' ta score some corn dogs,

but don't think fer one second you can shove yer grandma out of a ferris wheel without havin'ta pay fer a fresh hip replacement.

You might can hide from yer wife by divin' in the ball pit at a McDonald's Playland,

but that don't excuse you from stealin' a man's oboe to use as a backscratcher.

You can ride a hall tree around yer back yard if yer lookin' to make yer mule a little jealous,

but don't think the folks at Texas Tech'll give you an honorary doctorate for watchin' a Green Acres marathon.

Drinkin' too much at yer own wedding is about as wise as sleepin' next to a six-toed drifter,

'specially if that extra toe ain't on his foot, know whata mean?

Don't never trust a politician when his bowtie's a spinnin'

unless you like eatin' yer momma's shake-n-bake porkchops off a rusty old washboard.

Nursin' a pig back'ta health with lizards milk is what the French call a catch-22,

cuz not only will the pig bite'ya 22 times, but yul end up havin'ta explain to the lizard how'ya got banned from the battin' cages at Celebration Station.

A college education's kinda like a wet fart in the wintertime,

taint nobody happy about it but you and the slophogs, and yer Uncle Lou's gotta git'is couch reupholstered.

Don't count yer gizzards before you eat'em,

cuz chances are a squirrelly fella with tennis elbow's justa waitin' round the corner to squirt'ya with a novelty boutonniere.

You can laugh at a British fella when he calls a bathroom a water closet,

but that don't mean you can make a mint julip by droppin' an Andes into a warm Pabst Blue Ribbon.