Twister drawing its' breath off shingles from our reside,
sister on one hip, six pack on the other, momma held on to her pride ~
The air around us swirled, blowing chickens like the dickens,
horses running wildly, dog still chained to porch yelping, this time no whippins ~
The finger of God was upon us, taking a turn for a drink,
into the pond its' thirsty mouth did sip, there goes the kitchen sink ~
Momma pushed my sister into the cellar, my hair mangled in my face,
slipping and falling on the fresh morning dew, running at a good pace ~
Six bottles of booze falling to the ground, momma stopped to cease,
inside the storm box, for momma I would hollar, then praying upon my knees ~
Through the clothesline the funnel did blow, tossing white sheets away,
a wheel barrow had flipped, hitting momma, blood now on the blowing hay ~
Amongst the commotion we could hear windows shatter and break,
ripping our home to shreds, throwing our truck into the nearby lake ~
Momma had fallen, the winds blew and blew,
trying to gather her bottles, I watched her, as she watched me too ~
Closing the doors to our safe haven, my mind was in wonder,
my sister and I sat quietly and still, the storm was now just thunder ~
The house was gone, my dogs chain snapped in two,
momma was not coming back for us, this I knew to be true ~
My sister Susie and I walked over shards of glass, stepping on a big nail,
the only thing that was untouched, was mommas glass six pack,
still standing tall and mighty, right where she had fell ~
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