Jack, Jim, Evan and even Eli
Are the guys, I see on Saturday night.
We hang around hills
Rather it’s Heaven or Rock
Or we can be found by a creek,
Rowan or Knob, it doesn’t matter.
Sometimes we can be found with our Makers,
Or Pappy and Grand-Dad while
They’ll try to teach about being a gentleman
Or how to do that Rebel Yell.
They might tell us about the time they saw
A red or white stag at Yellowstone
With the buffaloes and eagles.
The Walker boys might come around,
Johnnie more than Dumas and you can’t forget about
Their friend Booker.
But my favorite place is the local whiskey bar,
Where I can find them all.