This date would be fun he thought
As he laid out new jean's bought,
He'd polished up his brogan shoes
As the radio moaned country blues.

Bubba shaved his freckled face
Pruning his mustache into place
Then combed his flame red hair,
Slicking it back with utmost care.

He's running late for a special date
Has to rush, must not be late,
Splashing cologne just once more
He ran out the trailer-house door.

Tripping over old Clyde the hound
He rolls down the steps to ground
Landing in a gooey puddle of mud
He choked on his juicy tobacco cud.

Hopping to his feet coated with grime
He ran for the pickup making up time,
High-stepping out the gate he sailed
Ripping his pants on a rusty nail.

With naked leg flapping in the breeze
Wind blew his baseball cap into the trees
And as he slapped at a mad pesky bee
On the pickup door he banged a knee.

But persistent with purpose of mind
Bubba vows not to be late this time,
Excited he's dreamed of a date as this
And it's no event he wants to miss.

He leapt in his pickup truck with a bound
Then stomps on the gas headed for town,
This time he would get the best of the rest
At the county fair's hog-calling contest.