A Redneck's Ode to Valentines Day!

Kudzu is green,
my dog's name is Blue
And I'm so lucky
to have a sweet thang like you.

Yore hair is like cornsilk
A-flapping in the breeze.
Softer than Blue's
And without all them fleas.

You move like the bass,
Which excite me in May.
You ain't got no scales
But I luv you anyway.

You're as graceful as okry
Jist a-dancin' in the pan.
Yo're as fragrant as SunDrop
Right out of the can.

You have all yore teeth,
For which I am proud;
I hold my head high
When we're in a crowd.

On special occasions,
When you shave yore armpits,
Well, I'm in hawg heaven,
I'm plumb outta wits.

And speakin' of wits,
You've got plenty fer shore.
'Cuz you married me
Back in '74.

Still them fellers at work
They all want to know,
What I did to deserve
Such a purty, young doe.

Like a good roll of duct tape
Yo're there fer yore man,
To patch up life's troubles
And stick 'em in the can.

Yo're as strong as a four-wheeler
Racin' through the mud,
Yet fragile as that sanger
Named Naomi Judd.

When you hold me real tight
Like a padded gunrack,
My life is complete;
Ain't nuttin' I lack.

Yore complexion, it's perfection,
Like the best vinyl sidin'.
Despite all the years,
Yore age, it keeps hidin'.

And when you get old
Like a '67 Chevy,
Won't put you on blocks
And let grass grow up heavy.

Me 'n' you's like a Moon Pie
With a RC cold drank,
We go together
Like a skunk goes with stank.

Some men, they buy chocolate
For Valentine's Day;
They git it at Wal-Mart,
It's romantic that way.

Some men git roses
On that special day
From the cooler at Kroger.
"That's impressive," I say.

Some men buy fine diamonds
From a flea market booth.
"Diamonds are forever,"
They explain, suave and couth.

But for this man, honey,
These will not do.
For you are too special,
You sweet thang you.

I got you a gift,
Without taste nor odor,
Better than diamonds
it's a new trollin' motor.

There was a young fellow named Hyde
               Who took a girl out for a ride. 
                    He mucked up her fuck-hole 
                    And fucked up her muck-hole, 
               And charged her two dollars beside. 

               A damsel who lives at the Springs 
               Had her maidenhead ripped into strings 
                    By a hideous Kurd, 
                    And now, she averred, 
               "When the wind blows through it, it sings." 

A lady on climbing Mount Shasta
Complained as the mountain grew vaster,
That it wasn't the climb
Nor the dirt nor the grime
But the ice on her ass that harassed her. 

On clinkers his choice often fell,
Or clabbered piss brought to a jell.
When these palled to his tastes,
He tried snot and turd-paste,
And found them delicious as well.