A tribute to my Kentucky neighbors, now on their knees in supplication midst the fallen trees. The magneto is spinning as I cogitate/ With a furrow on my brow/ As the dynamo sends power, across the wires here and now/ I spy the broken power pole and what is there a-
scratchin' but a liberated cow/ I'm glad my light bulb is buzzing as blue grass hides under the white/ I'm thankful I'm not there freezing in the wee hours of the night
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