Frying Pan

Bacon grease in a Crisco can
By the stove and a cast iron frying pan
Mama fried biscuits sizzling hot
With peppered gravy to put on top

Gathered round the table, we’d bow our heads, say grace
Serving up love southern fried was her way

I wish, I had the chance
For one more glimpse, to share a glance,
Take her hand, say I love you, again and again and again,
Yeah, to stand there with mama as she cooked in her frying pan

Crispy cornbread freshly baked
Pinto beans and onions, the perfect mates
I think she knew that skillet was more,
Than for the cooking it was made for

Still can’t believe she never used a recipe
While she filled me up with those childhood memories