Coffee and Cinnamon Rolls

It's that time of year when all of the cows

Look for a swimming hole

To cool their hides and drown some flies,

Drink coffee and eat cinnamon rolls.

Well, I've never offered 'em coffee

And as to a cinnamon roll?

I wouldn't give it to my cows

It's for filling my own pie hole.

I've been to Alaska and even to Maine

And they sound good this time of year

'Cause it's hotter than Hades here in this place

And it's cooking this old hide I fear.

Every August it gets this way

It happens each trip without fail;

I'd like to replace it with April or, June

In that calendar up on the nail.

The grass is all brown, trees dropping leaves

And the water dried up in the creek;

I got stopped by a rabbit with half-empty canteen

Asking directions to the nearest water leak.

Texas in August is not for the meek

And no home for the Heavenly Host;

It serves as reminder to straighten our ways

Or, He'll give us to Satan to roast!