Backwoods Ballet

Well Grammy slipped into them spandex tights,

Lookin’ like a sausage casing wound up tight.

She bent down slow to feed the hound,

Let out a hiss — like a tire goin’ down.

We laughed so hard we fell off the porch,

That spandex spark lit up like a torch.

It’s a backwoods ballet, we’re dancin’ on the edge,

Ridin' tires through trees and hedge to hedge.

Got a blunt in my teeth and a beer in my hand,

Cousin’s in the pine tree tryna be a man.

We don’t need roads, we don’t need class —

Just a leakin’ tire hiss from Grammy’s… well, you know.

Cousin Earl climbed a pine with a chainsaw grin,

Said, “I’ma trim the top and then jump back in!”

But the tree said “nope” and snapped like twigs,

Sent him spinnin’ down like a kid on figs.

He yelled "Timber!" — too late to shout,

Landed on a goat and the goat passed out.

It’s a backwoods ballet, chaos in the air,

We’re hood surfin’ trucks without a care.

No seatbelt laws where the gravel flies,

Just moonshine dreams and bug-filled eyes.

If the law comes ‘round, we’ll just play dumb —

Point at Grammy’s spandex and watch 'em run.

Now we're tire surfin’ through the pinewood slop,

I hit a stump but the blunt ain't dropped.

Cletus still sippin’ Busch with class,

Got a pinecone stuck right in his... past.

Backseat’s soaked from Bud’s little scare,

He pissed himself when the truck caught air!

We’re legends of the gravel, kings of the rut,

Dodgin’ trees with a beer in our gut.

Ain’t no Netflix in our backwoods block,

Just Grammy’s bubble and a rock-road shock.

Dangerous drivin’? Nah, we call it skill —

With a flatbed faith and a case to kill!

It’s a backwoods ballet, the redneck revue,

Where the road’s made of rocks and the sky’s always blue.

With a fart like a whisper and hearts full of sin,

We'll do it all over — just count us in.

‘Cause life’s too short for normal towns —

We’d rather surf tires than settle down.

So here’s to Grammy, and her spandex sass,

And the hiss that echoed through the holler pass.

If you smell rubber, and hear a cheer —

That’s just us, ridin’ wild with a backwoods beer.