Now I s’pose y’all heard about,
The wisest critter around;
They call him “Punxsutawney Phil”
Smartest groundhog, thumbs down!
But I’ll bet I can tell y’ sumpthin’
That lots of folk don’t know;
About where Phil got his smarts,
Taint’ no lie, er’ I’d jest tell ya so.
Ye see ole Phil’s got a cuzin,
Mount’n folk call em, “Possum Bill”
Yep, the closet liv’n’ relative,
To this one y’all know as Phil.
They grew up in the same ole hole,
Seems their maw’s dun n’ got et;
So they grew to d’pend on t'uther,
That’s ‘bout as close as one kin git.
But, one night it wuz stormin’,
The lightnin’ come crashin’ round’;
When a bolt dun n’ hit em’ both,
And jarred em’ frum the ground!
The lightnin’ must have dun supmthin’,
To their wits, now don’t ya’ know;
Frum then on, they cud tell the weather,
Regardless t’were it shine er snow.
Now ole Bill set in tah learnin’,
All about the elements n’ such;
Til’ he becum so dab blume smart,
His brain couldn’t hold so much.
So he took a little breethur,
Frum the weather learnin’ task;
Then give a portion tah his cuzin,
Jest cuz Phil had dun n’ ast.
Then Phil took all that learnin’
And set out fer worldly fame;
But Bill stay in these ole Hills,
Tryin’ tah rest his weiry brain.
Now I agree, Phil’s a smart one,
Shur, his forecasts all cum true;
But when you sing his praises,
Say sumptin’ good of Possum Bill to.
Signed: Possum Bill