Barbeque Songtext
von The Red Clay Ramblers

Get your fire burning hot and make it out of hickory wood
Coals from the bottom to the top, now you′re looking good
Cook it slow, cook it well, that Carolina way
When you ring the dinner bell, everybody's gonna say

Whoa mama, whatever you do
Don′t get behind on your barbecue

I knew an old man, he made a lot of fun of this rig
Said if you keep on eating that stuff, you're gonna look like a pig
But when that meat came off of that stove
Into that meal that old man dove, singing

Whoa mama, whatever you do
Don't get behind on your barbecue


Forget about your chicken and your Brunswick stew
But don′t get behind on your barbecue

When you throw a party you find that you hardly need a thing
Just a bunch of split wood stacked neat and an old bed spring
Get the word out to every one of your friends
If they ever come once, they′ll forever come again, singing

Whoa mama, whatever you do
Don't get behind on your barbecue

Forget about your chicken and your Brunswick stew
But don′t get behind on your barbecue

I said whoa mama, whatever you do
Don't get behind on your barbecue

Forget about your chicken and your Brunswick stew
But don′t get behind on your barbecue