Hog Wagon
     ©2004, Roger Judd, CaneyFork Publishing, BMI
     key=G

     Wade, 
     did I tell you that Carl Halfacre cut his thumb with a butcher knife
     about 2 weeks ago ?  He was carving off some salt cured country ham a' hanging
     in his smokehouse....so he said...   It happened the same day that a truck 
     load of hogs wrecked on I-40 near Silver Point. Terry Rich had to work the
     wreck (as an EMT) that day and he said it was a real mess...with hogs
     running loose on the interstate, ect.  Anyway, Gene had to play guitar for
     Carl for several days cause Carl had stitches in his thumb. Gene and I started
     teasing Carl and making up this little song.   See if you can add some to 
     it...

     Many thanks to the good friends who inspired, and encouraged this little
     limerick. I pray that God Blesses you as he has done this poor, barefooted
     hillbilly... RAJ

                                     
     It all started with a rock in the road
     the Hog Wagon hit it and lost its load...


     G
     It all started with a rock in the road
                              D        G
     the Hog Wagon hit it and lost its load
         
     The driver was gone when the Sheriff got there
                                   A       D
     and squeelin hogs were loose everywhere

     old HamBone was wonderin what his kids might eat
     with a powerful hankerin for salty meat
     when he heard about the wreck of the big hog truck
     He cried, its a gift from Heaven above!

     CHORUS:
     [        C                     G                                    ]
     [ Let us truly be grateful for what we shall receive...             ]
     [                                        A             D            ]
     [ Now pass me round that ham and red-eye gravy, if you please       ]
     [        C                               G                          ]
     [ He was dining like the rich man, eatin high on the hog            ]
     [                                                D              G   ]
     [ till the greasy butcher knife, it slipped, and cut his finger off ]


     Now the hogs' all gone, except for the souse
     its sad and lonely round' the old smoke house
     old HamBone, he can't play his fiddle nomore
     But he's pickin on the banjo with a three fingered roll

     CHORUS

     It all started with a rock in the road
     the Hog Wagon hit it and lost its load...