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Groundhog Blues

Every year on
February second,
I get pulled
outta my bed,
strange hands grab
me out of my hole
by the hair of my head.

I'm a poor, old,
overweight groundhog,
no time to
put on my shoes,
I'm sure tellin' you,
I've got the poor, old,
overweight groundhog blues.

I get poked at,
I get held up
in the air,
I have noticed,
I'm missing
alot of my hair.

I'm just a poor, old
overweight groundhog,
no time to put
on my shoes,
I'm sure tellin' you,
I've got the poor, old,
overweight groundhog blues.

Copyright Cynthia Jones
Feb.2/2004
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