That’s the good thing about possum innards, just as good the second day.
But when our dinner guests see what Granny is cooking, they run away.
These city folks have the weirdest reactions that I’ve ever seen.
When we serve buzzard eggs, they puke after their faces turn green.
Jethro is my nephew, and I need to have a long talk with that boy.
Mister Drysdale loves our money, but his wife is always annoyed.
Whenever we hear music, somebody is always at the door.
Even though Jethro is bigger, Elly May pins him to the floor.
People tend to catch on fire if they smoke after drinking from Granny’s still.
As long as we have 100 million, MR. Drysdale won’t let us leave Beverly Hills.
(This poem was inspired by ‘The Beverly Hillbillies’ TV show.)