Andy’s Mayberry, fine and dandy. Aunt Bee’s made cherry pie ‘n’ candy. Ain’t busy, mind inquirin’ why ‘n’ cain’t we?’ Ain’t we mighty cheery? White as can be. Ain’t she a maid? Cheeky pinch ‘n cleanly. Ain’t he made? Chief police keepin’ peace ‘n’ a piece handy. Ain’t help milk and cows, keeping pace n hands squeeze’n’. Ain’t her pail hefty? deep, and pale ‘n’ hard cheese. Aimed her pile, left the droppin’ patties been hardly chewed. Ain’t mad, heifer puller’s lactate the drink on pasteurized been hardly chilled. Ain’t made it here for pullin’ slack like them Tiddlywinks in pictures; I’s born in a barn, child. Aye, in TV magic, a hat for pullin’ stacks; letting them TV witches inch past your eyes, boreing into your brain, channeled. Antennas transmitting interceptions, all honed, focused on presenting scrambled pixelations; trillions of tiny squares, wooing crowds, fingers hurriedly flipping by before your retina- checking the listings. And his morals are buried beside mine, free from those deceptive depictions. Ain’t all black-and-white, folks. (and no, I wouldn’t “ rather be fishing”.) Andy’s Mayberry fine and dandy. Andy’s Mayberry fine and dandy.
