Lick, lick, lickety, lick, de cat licks from de spoon—Lob, lob-lob,
lob, lob—Pots boilin' of knuckles n' greens in de early afta noon. As mama would say in an ole' foke rhyme—"boil dat cabbage down,"
"boil dat cabbage down, ain't got time fa foolin' gal, "boil dat cabbage down." Just a slab of poke fat, a pinch uh salt here n' there—bit of shugah
n' peppah tu taste, creates uh perfect family affair. Serve uh mess uh baby bass, n'sweet patatuh by de side—n' possums always best, stewed or baked, but nevah fried. Lick, lick, lickety, lick, de cat licks from de spoon—"Git down from
there!" Git down from there!" She swats him with her broom—he then splits in uh nick of a second, squealin' from de kitchen n' out de
otha room. Lob, lob—lob, lob, lob, hear dem pots, smell dem pots, boilin'
down knuckles n'greens n' possum stew, in de early afta noon.