BBQ Artist

I was raised in smoke as a kid
In the barbecue shack my dad’s dad built with him
And every afternoon sauce from our chins
Dripped on the patio
Dad sang while prepping the ribs
«My son, every step adds up in the long run.»
So I set in place as I grew
I planted projects that patiently bloomed
I would paint patrons with barbecue
Sculpted our smoker
You know her as Piggy Sue, my love
She’s got a smoke stack stuck in her lungs
She’s gotta a quote smack clear cross her front
«Every step adds up in the long run.»
And in twnty years word got out
My art covered th shack, now a house
«Best-in-State» till the morning we found
The building had burned to the ground
It sucks
Losing something you love
Should add up, I’m not sure it does
I’ll do the math waiting for the long run