Do you know what the thing about belt buckles is?
Oh, I know for sure, about that belt sellin’ biz.
You see, when they give you your buckle,
For showin’ a steer, or for a first place homemakin’
They don’t give you a belt for your buckle,
After all you don’t need one by their thinking.
A buckle without a belt, is a temptation in extreme.
Most people can’t resist, and have to give in.
So you go to the store. You buy one with bling,
Thinkin’ it’ll last, but it’s all part of the scheme.
It lasts a few months of you wearin’ it proud,
Then snaps in half, right in front of the crowd.
Then once again, you have a beltless buckle,
But you’ve had a taste now, and ignore the seller’s chuckle.
You search online, to find the right one,
For that shiny buckle that you won.
You find it quickly. It has ravin’ reviews,
And you order swiftly, ready to stick it to those laughin’ screws.
Your belt arrives, all slick and new.
It smells of the shop, ready for use,
But the same thing does happen,
While sitting on your favorite church pew.
Now you’re out two belts, but you suffer the abuse.
You’re hooked hard, on the western style leather.
Even though they keep snappin,’
You’re on a short tether.
So take my advice. Don’t do it, if you can.
Put that buckle in a case.
It’s better than what happened with me.
I went too far. I got caught in the plan.
I let them lie to my face,
And now you can see.
I’m addicted to belts, with no money.
That’s the danger of buckles my friend.