The Legend of Sweet Jane

Gather ‘round the flames, boys, pass the whiskey jar,
Stars are blazin’ bright, we’re howlin’ from afar.
I got a tale to tell, ‘bout a gal named Jane,
Short-town vixen, drove us all insane.
She strutted in them boots, hips thick as sin,
But it’s what she did that made the legends begin.

Oh, Jane, sweet Jane, queen of the night,
Swallowed it whole, gave us pure delight.
Other girls’d spit, leave a mess in the dirt,
But Jane took it down, never flinched, never hurt.
She’s a campfire saint, crude and so true,
Jane, you wild thang, we’re still singin’ ‘bout you!

Met her at the barn dance, summer heat was high,
Skirt hiked up, catchin’ every eye.
She’d wink and tease, pull a boy aside,
Next thing you know, you’re on a hell of a ride.
The spitters’d gag, cough it up with a frown,
But Jane just grinned, and chugged it right down!

Oh, Jane, sweet Jane, queen of the night,
Swallowed it whole, gave us pure delight.
Other girls’d spit, leave a mess in the dirt,
But Jane took it down, never flinched, never hurt.
She’s a campfire saint, crude and so true,
Jane, you wild thang, we’re still singin’ ‘bout you!

Tommy tried a spitter, said, “Man, what a chore,
She hacked it up, I slipped on the floor!”
Billy laughed, “Jane ruined me for life,
She’d gulp it clean, didn’t need a wife!”
We raised our cans, toasted to her name,
Short-town’s sloppy star, hall of fame!

Oh, Jane, sweet Jane, queen of the night,
Swallowed it whole, gave us pure delight.
Other girls’d spit, leave a mess in the dirt,
But Jane took it down, never flinched, never hurt.
She’s a campfire saint, crude and so true,
Jane, you wild thang, we’re still singin’ ‘bout you!

So here by the fire, with the embers aglow,
We tell Jane’s tale, let the crude truth flow.
Spitters can kick rocks, we don’t give a damn,
Jane’s our hero, the queen of the jam.
Pass me that bottle, let’s cheer her again,
To Jane and her throat—our foul-mouthed friend!