Fryin' Pan

©2010 Dave Clegg

I woke up with a headache.

I was layin’ on the kitchen floor.

Starin’ up at the ceiling

I don’t remember a whole lot more.

The dog was lickin’ the water

That you poured on my face.

I didn’t even know what state I was in,

But it wasn’t a state of grace.

When the room came into focus

I could see you standin’ there.

Instead of a look of pity,

You were shootin’ me an angry glare.

Honey, I was floored when you told me

I’ve been a fool and a selfish man.

You could’a knocked me over with a feather

You didn’t need that fryin’ pan.

Fryin’ pan,

In your hand.

Helpin’ me

To understand.

I’ve lost as many

Of the brain cells I can stand,

So, please don’t use,

That fryin’ pan. 

Now, Darlin’, can you tell me

Just how you think I might

Reach a higher consciousness

When I’m out like a light.

So take that cast-iron skillet

And chunk it in the garbage can.

Unless you’re cookin’ cornbread,

You don’t need that fryin’ pan.

Fryin’ pan,

In your hand.

Helpin’ me

To understand.

I’ve lost as many

Of the brain cells I can stand

So, please don’t use,

That fryin’ pan.