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Paper fans in sweaty hands |
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Shooing flies away |
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Reflections on a porch |
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A shelter from the scorch |
|
When dog days came around |
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Babies squalled as August crawled |
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Past old folks in the shade |
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The weather vane was stuck |
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And white oak creek would drop |
|
When dog days came around |
|
The dog days were scorchers |
|
Southern torture |
|
But we found an answer to the plight |
|
It was a dog day's night |
|
Evening brings a front porch scene |
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But time to rest your bones |
|
And pray you won't be here |
|
Come this time next year |
|
When dog old days come along |
|
The dog days were scorchers |
|
Southern torture |
|
But we found an answer to the plight |
|
It was a dog day's night |
|
The dog days were scorchers |
|
Southern torture |
|
But we found an answer to the plight |
|
It was a dog day's night |
|
Oh, yeah, more dog days oh, yeah |
