Pumping gas in Bartow

Trying not to stare at

The withered old cracker

Who asks what I can spare

Striving to ignore him

Thinking it’s some scam, but

I see from his face that

He’s really in a jam

Pointing to his pickup

Rusting by pump three, says

He’d rather scrap copper

But can’t find it for free

Handing him some dollars

Thinking that he’s low, yet

What’s the chance some cracker

Will prosper in Bartow?

But crackers were here first

And also, likely last

Really, only Yankees

Don’t value what is past

So I’m glad I could help

God bless this cracker here

    ‘Cause if need be noble

Then a king I’ve helped cheer