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Once a year came berry-pick'n time,
Blackberries for cobblers and jelly;
Both tasted good from a bowl or on bread,
And became sweetness there in my belly.

We'd start notice'n briars 'long about June,
When berries were swell'n-up red;
Anticipate'n how happy we'd be,
Soon as we'd get to be fed.

I remember back when we were still young,
Lay'n claim to empty lard pails;
Tie'n-up tight our pant legs with string,
And all of us tuck'n-in shirt tails.

Yes, although the taste was sweet on our tongues,
Two hazards were always in sight;
The sting sure to come from the berry's briar,
And the itch from the red-chigger's bite.

So… the lesson was learned and remembered well,
'Bout sacrifice and live'n with pain;
There's good to be had, but not without price,
When pick'n berries from the banks of our lane.