[Verse] Smoke rising slow from the grill in the rain, My soul’s a burnt-out match in a busted frame. I cracked a joke ‘bout the storm on the back porch door, But the thunder laughed louder than the folks at the floor. [Pre-Chorus] The fire sizzles, but my heart’s gone cold, Every punchline I tell just makes the night more sold. [Chorus] Oh, I’m the cookout poet with blues in every punchline, Sweat on my neck and sorrow in my wine. The fire’s low, but the pain stays high, I write my grief in smoke and sigh— With every word, I cry, Yeah, I’m the cookout poet with blues in every punchline. [Verse] My plate’s full of silence, my drink’s full of pain, Each laugh I let loose is another grain of rain. The neighbors whisper, “Man, you’ve seen enough,” But I keep the skillet hot—just to keep my soul on rough. [Pre-Chorus] The fire sizzles, but my heart’s gone cold, Every punchline I tell just makes the night more sold. [Chorus] Oh, I’m the cookout poet with blues in every punchline, Sweat on my neck and sorrow in my wine. The fire’s low, but the pain stays high, I write my grief in smoke and sigh— With every word, I cry, Yeah, I’m the cookout poet with blues in every punchline. [Bridge] They say, “Man, lighten up, the sun will rise,” But I’m the storm that never learns to die. The grill’s gone black, the coals are grey, Still I stand here—still I say… Even in the downpour, I’ll keep the flame. [Outro] Blues in every punchline… Sweat on my neck… Sorrow in my wine… Yeah… I’m the cookout poet… With blues in every punchline…