Words and music by Phil Baker

The barbecue is turning slow and tasty
Smell of ribs floating in the air
Band is playing country with a fiddle
Kinfolk come from miles everywhere

Put on your chicken rags and do the butterfly
Twist and turn like taffy being made
You play a tune and I’ll play a tune
We’ll go dancing ‘neath the moon
We’ll turn this town into a big parade

Mama won’t you take me to the Hoedown
Everybody’s dancing in the street
Are you dancing?
Are you asking?
Yes, I’m asking.
Then I’m dancing
Mama take me to the hoedown in the street

Cousin’s got a limp, but still moves like a butterfly
When he’s dancing his feet turn into wings
Grandpa saw him dancing with an angel
Problem is he won’t come down and eat

Gloria’s the pork queen of the county fair
She sings for all the fellas there to court
Went to kiss her boyfriend on the forehead
Made a mistake and kissed a cow instead


Animals are listening to the music
Cows and chickens dancing in the barn
A pig got up and she did a jig
I joined in, what a gig
Hope my wife didn’t
See me dancing with a pig



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