Union Blue--introspection and a wackadoodle

   
   "Union Blue--introspection and a wackadoodle"  
   
   Step-Daddy, Carolina forged, when things are labor-oriented--he declares with swift, militaristic plan to sweep the debris:  "Boy--we gotta grease this goose."  Or perhaps dandy days with NASCAR and Bud Heavy flowing:  "Boy--we're in high cotton."  Regardless, absorbing everything Southwards as commands heavy empathy, what to do but gleefully vent with dynamic ditty, remembering:  babe crowned in a symmetrical explosion of girly curls, and tough.  Here goes:
   
Woman--you just so girly curl fine--
Punch me in the throat if I get out of line!

You got scald; you got grit--
I'm all about your life-giving tit--
I ain't uncouth in vulgar way;
I just know what I want, and I want what I say--
So thank your stars I hung the moon;
The coyotes are calling for a waxing boon.

Woman--you just so girly curl fine--
Punch me in the throat if I get out of line!