Somewhere in the deep south
Wood is being lit aflame
Slow cookers are being activated
This shoulder cut will never be the same
The dry rub is applied
The seasoning eternal
The pork – submerged into the crock-pot
A barbecue so infernal
The smell of meat roasting excites the nostrils
Life has departed from this flesh so long ago…
Free to do with this carcass as they please
As its internal temperature reaches the optimal degrees
With their hands they rip and tear
Smothered in sauce without care
Blessed are they who pull the pork
To be placed on bread or put to the fork
Ripping through the corpse with insatiable hunger
Life has departed from this flesh so long ago!