Daddy wanted steak for dinner.
Momma wanted fish.
And once they started arguing
It sounded quite like this:
“I don’t want no fish, we’d faint in here,
and fish stinks up the house.”
“Well ‘less you got money for rent and steak,
Mr. Randall will put us out.”
“Ay, Junior—what you want? What you say?
You know we never really ask you.”
I knew that if I’d sided with Daddy,
Hmph! Momma would fry me too.
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