Okefenokee Joker

Born way down in the Okefenokee swamp,

they say a big old alligator was his momma,

Cutting his first teeth on the Cyprus trunks,

brought there in sixty by hurricane Donna,

Okefenokee John, was not quite a Don Juan,

Although the ladies thought he was the Man.

Made a living netting shrimp, alligator hemp,

Was never a fella anyone could understand.

John was later to become a fine guide,

Although almost cost him his own hide.

He tried to save a greener from a gator,

Proved to be a record, found out later.

One day he decided to give the job a toss,

Was not worth missing fingers, of his loss.

Although the occupation then, was worse,

Seemed he couldn't shake that gator curse.

Down in that swamp, late in the night,

Are sounds to give us all such a fright.

Gators bellowing, as frogs all croaking,

Mosquitos buzzing, the snakes stroking.

Smart fellas, gals, to take a raincheck,

If they desire their figures not to wreck.

They say old Bobo, the swamp's critter,

Might just be a big monster, heavy hitter.

These days, old John just prefers to sit around,

Enjoying a swamp's serenading, the only sound.

Telling a few of his Cajun jokes, going out to fish,

Frying up his shrimp recipes, each delicious dish.

If you ever happen to come down, have a stomp,

Just having some fun, maybe to have a little romp.

Don't forget the alligators rule that whole swamp,

All You may be doing is giving them a tasty chomp.

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