Hey There, I’m Jessup

Hey there, I’m Jessup.
Just an ugly old Burnet paddock hoss;
Caint hardly speak clear so I ast this
Jackass, Clem, across the way to git my thoughts down.
Yeah, a jackass, but at least he agreed, he being a poet and all.
I told him no rhymin, but who knows—
He’s a jackass after all, so sorry bout any rhymin.
Twas a time passed when I ran with the best
But my ever teener haid said go ahead, run,
but my geriatric apoplitic knee said uh uh and here I am,
On this old farm. Hay is good.
Caint say much about the company. Jackasses all over. [Oh, sorry Clem.]
Yeah and so I was thinking about Pan Wren, my one time heavenly.
Ast me if I was on her Friends list.
Gosh, I wanna be on her Lover list, but that aint happnin. Bad knee, worse ‘tude.
Anyway, thanks fer listning to an old paddock hoss. You been so nice and all.
Next time yer this away, come on over and I just might surprise you
With a
Hey there, I’m Jessup.

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Spur 191

so I took a turn down winding creek road
to see what I could see that funny sunny Thursday
there were deer and cows and horses proud
and roads turning off and about every which away

So touring the sylvan environs of Spicewood
betwixt here and there and those Marble Falls
off off off the main road heading out twisting curves
gotta pay extra attention: better hold all my calls.

bridges over Little Cypress Creek are a bit o’ let’s try this
and watch those scrapple gravel drives, please no dust!
Because you pop a tire way down there, my friend
taint no AAA a-coming, you are just stuck and bust.

heading home from Spicewood flying down 71
I saw deers and cows and some horses fine,
but the people there are so just the nicest,
exemplars of the best of the American kind!

hey! if you’re feeling poorly, bad news has darkened the Sun,
try a refresher country drive and take that turn off at Spur 191.