The Mushroom War of '94
an Poem by Danny Stephens
 
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It was an April mornin' wet and warm
Seventy degrees after a thunderstorm
I stuffed a breadsack in my back pocket and I headed out for the woods
I seen a couple kids spittin' off'a the bridge
So I slipped along the fence-line and I low-crawled the ridge
But when I seen those footprints, buddy I lost all sense of right, wrong, bad or good

It's the mushroom war of '94
I hereby declare it and I'll tell ya what's more
Those scum-suckin' slime buckets leavin' those stumps
Are goin' down for sure
You can beat me to my fishin' hole, there's plenty of fish
But when you start takin' fungus off a good ol boys dish
It's time for the mushroom war of '94

Well I heard some voices thru the trees
Just'a laughin' perty as ya please
They were haulin' out my harvest in some fancy burlap sack
I sat right down, took off my socks
Filled 'em full of walnuts and some heavy old rocks
Then I took off screamin' towards them mushroom thievin' demons
Lookin' for some heads to crack

It's the mushroom war of '94
Thain't the kinda mushrooms you can buy at the store
Them slick-chicken patch-pickin' low-life slugs
Are messin with my spores
You can rob my garden blind late in the night
But touch my morels and ya best be ready to fight
It's the mushroom war of '94

I came up on 'em like a wild-man and said
With both socks swingin' above my head
If ya wanna see tomorrow boys ya better drop that bag right there
Well one of 'em tried goin' for a stick layin' near
So I popped him with my sock-o-rocks upside of his ear
His ear popped, the bag dropped, his buddy took to runnin'
Guess I made myself real clear

It's the mushroom war of '94

If ya think ya want my mushroom ya better think some more

Snake-bellied, brain-jellied, timber-trackin-cleptos ain't somethin' I'd ignore
You can take my dog and turn him into mexican food
But pullin' up my poppers, well now that's gettin' rude
You'll be in for a war like '94

 

Well that's my story and it's all true
Except for the beginning and the rest the way through
But ya gotta admit those footprints have made ya feel that way before
Well keep your good wool socks on your feet for the snow
But keep a spare pair around close cause ya just never know
When you'll be in for a war like '94

Copyright 2006 1 Morel Mushroom Lane