Noon whining, drowning the calm,
Lad is mowing on the land,
Somebody simmering with plenty bird bombs,
Rusty mower in his bumbling hands.

Somebody trying to get done by five,
He got premises so steep,
Mowing the rows and in despair he cuts,
Yard of clay and grass so deep,

Violent cars stinking in the bleakness of a windless sky,
Bold biting gnats and mites, mostly bare and thin grass has died,
Dandelions are molding, new swirls in the morn,
Clovers and crabgrasses creeping as they spawn,
And it's a lawn mowed, I was weedin'

Mutant grasses form around a tree.
In a frightful, funny way,
Glowing round the skinny gate,
In its good ol' DNA.

Have a bunch of that potassium rub,
Soakin' pine from jars while swatting flies,
I said, "Gimme ‘nother slice o’ that Weed B' Gone grass kit,
Gimme 'nother seed o’ that green lawn rye".

Green sprays sickening, smells are priming for June,
I'm guided by myopia, root cap says we'll be a-thriving soon,
Cultivate the rolled border, spring is for the rains,
Maturing as the flakes I tried are for my growing gains,
And it's a lawn mowed, I was feedin'.

Black foam, I was uncertain,
The lawn was very near,
But now I laugh and blunder: "What am I growing here?"
I squat, drowning in my sorrow,
And I can't tell strong from slight,
But I live ev’ry spring to repair grassy yards in blight

Guitar solo

Grieving on my old spic n' span driveway,
When a critter on the deck made like a burrowing skunk,
Gloated, quick and light, hell bent, bold and on my veranda,
And now conniving, crazed with spunk.

Went down a hole in the grasses,
A hole like Groundhog Day,
Get the pest, no pleaser, in its tunneling spray,
I said, "It's hard to stop infringing, oh my lawn's a waste
But burrowed underground is a foe that I can't face.

Behold the traps and grapple - the scour of the tools,
But all the smoke bombs in the world are of no use to fools,
And on a lawn mowed, moles are breedin'.