.......

Well, me and Fictional Fred,
we had another date last night
We got on down to the grist mill
Not to grind corn, now mind you
But to sit and spoon a while on that big old rock
that juts out over
the tumbling waters of Nantahala Creek.
On a night like last night that old
Rocks a mighty romantic place. What with it
being covered over thickly with the softest green
moss ever seen and being sheltered by
one of the biggest, thickest old Spruce Pines in this
whole county. Anyway Fred and me we was having the
best old time you ever saw, laughing and talking our way
down to that old rock. Me all dressed up in my
purty white dress, the one with the crispy swishy skirt to it,
And Fred all manly you know about taking me down there.
Us both looking forward with great expectations.
Well now don't take this to heart please but the terrible truth
about that romantic old moss covered rock's no lark:
I set myself daintily down in the moonlit dark
smack dab onto a big puddle of somebody's
sourly.wetstinking.puke!
EeeeuuUuuuu!!!!
Goodbye Romance.
... (ain't love grand?)
-ovia