The Legacy of Tom Rooster
I was just a young boy living on a tobacco farm.
People knew baseball was my hearts biggest passion.
I threw rocks to help strengthen my famous pitching arm.
None of the balls I threw were ever out of fashion.
Well, we had a rain barrel to catch all the falling rain.
Tom the rooster came a walking and strutting his proud stuff.
Dark clouds filled our barrel with water again and again.
Ole Tom was a real mean bird, not a sissy little cream puff.
I was out one day just pitching my famous balls.
Daddy was plowing the ole mule down in the tall corn fields.
My arm suddenly went out and well, Tom took a mighty fall.
I knew I was in trouble, so I kept one eye peeled.
Ole Tom fell down as if dead; what a sudden peril!
I grabbed Tom before Papa turned round his head.
I panicked and I dunked ole Tom down inside the rain barrel.
I shook him like crazy, and by gosh
Ole Tom, well he rose from the dead!
Mama came out not long after the notorious event.
Throwing corn around for the chickens to eat you see.
Tom Rooster after once dying, didn’t seem to repent.
He ran up and pecked Mama on the leg, then began to flee.
Mama’s temper flared hot as her blood ran red.
She didn’t take kindly to Tom a pestering her around the ole chicken coup.
Well the rest is history my friend, cause off went Tom’s head.
The resurrected Tom Rooster ended up in our chicken soup.
Sybil Shearin 2001