Stole Our Thanksgiving Turkey
Deep in the south where the shadows hum low ππΎ Something rustles the brush with a rhythm-too-slow π¬οΈπ£ Thanksgiving night, and the moonβs hung crooked πβ¨ Somebody swears they saw the turkeyβ¦ book it π¦π¨ Tracks in the mud, real wide, real strange πΎπ«οΈ Big footprints wandering out past the range π²π Swamp wind giggling like it knows the joke ππ¬οΈ It's feasting while the chimney still smokes ππ₯ Who took the turkey? Folks whisper and stare π¦π Mashed potatoes cooling in the humid night air π₯π«οΈ Grandmaβs upset, says it ainβt right π π§ It's out somewhere having its bite π²π½οΈ Holiday chaos in the cypress and pine ππͺοΈ Deep in the south where legends dine ππ Cranberry trails on the old dirt road ππΎ Cornbread crumbs where the shadows glowed ππ Someone left stuffing by the waterline ππ§ And a giant silhouette crossed the pines π²π€ You can hear it laughingβlow, not mean ππ«οΈ Like a prankster king of the evergreen ππ² Circle round the porch, keep your plates held tight π½οΈπ It's hungry every holiday night ππ Mud on the steps, and the screen door swings πͺπ§οΈ Family arguing about supernatural things π£οΈπ» Someone grabs a flashlight, someone says βnoβ π¦π ββοΈ Cause the swamp donβt answer to the folks who go πΏπ« But one thingβs sure as the tall reeds swayβ πΎ The legend had Thanksgiving its very own way π¦β¨ Who took the turkey? Folks whisper and stare π¦π Mashed potatoes cooling in the humid night air π₯π«οΈ Grandmaβs upset, says it ainβt right π π§ It's out somewhere having its bite π²π½οΈ Holiday chaos in the cypress and pine ππͺοΈ Deep in the south where legends dine ππ Well, that's just fine. We still got the pie. π₯§π But that turkey... that turkey was blessed. π¦β¨ And I think it just burped. π¨π³ ‡οΈβ€΅οΈβ€΅οΈβ€΅οΈ ππππΆπ―ππΆππππΉπ»π³βοΈ Β© 2025 CTFX All rights reserved.
