Every time
I used to hear
a rooster’s crow,
ya know, that repetitive
cocka doodle doo
ya just can’t Stand,
and ya wanna jump out of bed,
get your hatchet
and chop off its head.
It’s drivin ya crazy,
and ya can’t wait
to get even with that cock.
Then all of a sudden
ya hear Elvis singing
‘Jailhouse Rock!’
what would you do?
Hatchet in hand,
I opened the door
and coulda swore I heard,
“One, two,
three four,
Five o’clock rock…”
It was commin
from the old Maple tree.
The light of my miner’s cap
illumined the bark.
And there he was,
Rooster Man
that gol durn cock.
And believe it or not,
I’m his Biggest fan.
c. Douglas Fireman
For those who doubt this story,
I took a picture of Rooster Man.
Actually he's a combo of the original
tree bark and the paint I later
added using Picasa Tools.
Wish I coulda captured the song too.
He sounded exactly like Elvis.
