There once was a guy named JimJoeBob
Who lived in Arkansas
He liked his Karits and corn on the cob
He inbred ~ with his maw.
JimJoeBob was a mechanic by trade
And he lived in a trailer court
His own brand of whiskey he made
JimJoeBob had a brother named Mort.
Jeff Foxworthy had a field day with JimJoeBob
JimJoeBob, the model redneck.
When the porch collapsed and killed his dawg,
Poor ol' JimJoeBob found he wanted to sob.
He sang his whiny country ballads
And drank a six-pack (plus some whiskey)
Looked at Playboy, Penthouse, and some MADS~
He felt a little frisky.
JimJoeBob got in his four wheel drive extended cab pickup
And drove it down the highway
He had long forgotten his poor deceased pup
So he continued on to Neon Way.
He found this really raunchy place
So he parked his truck outside
JimJoeBob hoped that the women didn't carry mace
The last girl he'd even looked at had cried.
So our hero in this here ditty
Strolled into the strip joint
He sat at a table and tried to look witty~
But there really was no point.
'Cause things close early in Arkansas
(Even the strip joints)
Plus I don't wanna finish the ditty.
The End.