Well, I bet you heard
If you ever read the word
Of the Good Book, it took God
Seven days to make the Earth
And he made the moon and stars
And the sun out of gold
But there's one part of the story
That's very seldom told
You see, He took a little cow
And He made a little udder
Squeezed a little milk
And He made a little butter
He laid out a little spread
Then He broke a little bread
Then the best idea He ever had
Popped into His head
Corn!
Yes, we said corn
Just as sure as the day that you were born
In the evening, it's for supper
Then it's grits in the morn
No, it ain't our bread that's buttered
No, it's corn
We're here to tell you a fable
A farm-to-fable
Ooh!
About a simple place time forgot
Called Cob County
Now, I know when some of you think "small towns"
You think "gun-toting rusted-truck hay seeds
Who think liberal is how you pour your whiskey
And fluid belongs in your gas tank"
But I want you to open your minds
And think even smaller!
(STORYTELLER 2, spoken)
Somewhere north of south and south of north
To a place where being from somewhere is who you are
Filled with people no different from you or me
Well, more you
Proud, simple people
Who, more than anything, loved their corn!
They say it came from Mexico
Some seven-thousand years ago
Somewhere between right now and dinosaurs
Cut to the 1400's
Christopher Columbus
Brought syphilis and smallpox to the shore
And took credit for
Corn!
I'm talking corn
When it's popping up in rows
It's just like Norman Rockwell
Had a fresh new hand
And saw the technicolor morn
It's Kentucky and it's Kansas
Yeah, it's corn
It grew everywhere in tall proud rows!
Corn rows!
O-krrrrr
Nuh-uh, don't do that!
Okay
It popped up on every property line
Forming a huge corn wall that completely surrounded the town
Because of that, no one had ever left or come to Cob County
Oh, they knew of the outside world
They just wanted no part of it
The way history is written (History)
Jump into the first Thanksgiving (First Thanksgiving)
The Indians brought something (Indians)
The called maize (Aah, maize!)
Around eleven-thirty (Eleven-thirty)
The pilgrims stuffed a turkey (Stuffed a turkey)
Slipped into a tryptophanic haze
With leftovers for days and days
Of corn!
Yeah, I heard corn
Got us through the Great Depression and the storms
They turned it into alcohol!
Yeah, that's my favorite form!
It's mazola and it's ethanol
It's corn!
We were corn-bred, we were corn-fed
Out here, we really feel like we were chosen
We love corn flakes, we love corn cakes
Don't know where we would be without that golden corn
And on this day, vows were written
For a wedding that almost didn't happen
Maybe love is like a dream
A couple vows, a couple rings
It's a promise that you make
That two hearts will never break
Maybe love is like a song
All at once, you sing along
Doesn't have to be that hard
When it's written in the stars
Maybe love is like a seed (Maybe love)
A little sun is all you need (All you need)
A little rain, and so it goes (A little rain)
It grows and grows in rows and rows from dust
Maybe love just need a little-
Sweet corn, street corn
It's really hard to beat corn
Hands or feet, no wrong way to eat corn
It's a resource that's always renewable
Bring it to a bris
Or a wedding
Or a funeral!
Cook on the cob
Or in a tortilla
You can even make it an onomatopoeia
Candy corn, kettle corn, put it in your mouth
It's the same going in coming out
Sweet corn, street corn (Oh)
It's really hard to beat corn
Hands or feet, no wrong way to eat corn (Oh)
It's a resource that's always renewable (Oh)
Bring it to a bris!
Or a wedding or a funeral!
Cook on the cob (Oh)
Or in a tortilla
You can even make it an onomatopoeia (You, make, ah, pe)
Candy corn, kettle corn, put it in your mouth (Oh)
It's the same going in coming out
Sweet corn, street corn
It's really hard to beat corn
Hands or feet, no wrong way to eat corn
It's a resource that's always renewable
Bring it to a bris!
God!
It's got the juice!
Sweet, street, hands, feet
Cook it, pop it, baby, bris
Ashes to ashes and dust into dust
We give to the corn cause the corn gives to us
Corn!
All kinds of corn
It's our living
It's our
Loving!
It's our corn!
And when we go right on up to Heaven
We won't need to mourn
Just as long as the streets are paved with corn
When we get to Heaven
We won't need to mourn
Just as long as those streets are paved with corn!
Corn!
Corn!