Love-Hate Song

At our local mall, aptly nicknamed chiquitaville by the inimitable Miss Sallie Parker, one of my old watering holes vanished a while ago in a puff of unpaid rent. The space is now being refurbished against the advent of a barbecue joint--d.v., with full bar--and it set me to thinking that too few songs are written on that method of cookery. (I have no idea how many barbecue songs there are, I only know that it isn't enough.)

What follows is a bit schizoid. I'd intended unstinting praise, as with the song for Ruby Fruit, but it didn't turn out that way. Which is why I always say that the views expressed in my lyrics are not necessarily those of the lyricist.

The tune is Mademoiselle from Armentieres, if that's how you spell it:

What is the meal that always cheers?
Barbecue!
What is the dish that has no peers?
Barbecue!
Butcher a half a dozen steers
And eat till it’s coming out your ears—
Icky, sticky barbecue!

Brisket of beef and baby back
Barbecue;
Succulent, sweet and carbon black
Barbecue;
Make it a feast, and not a snack,
And eat till you get a heart attack—
Ooey, gooey barbecue!

This is the peptic protocol:
Barbecue!
Better for you than vitriol—
Barbecue.
Gobble the bad cholesterol—
And do it with lots of alcohol:
Easy, greasy barbecue!

Lyric © 2006 Nathaniel DesH. Petrikov

What it wants, of course, is a Big Finish. Otherwise, it'll go on forever, and our food will get cold.