My daddy once told me,
A manís word is all that heís got.
Well baby sticks and stones
Iím just skin and bones
And a manís only good as his shot.
So whatís the point in splittiní hairs,
When you can take the whole scalp and run
Thereís a lot of miles between here and there,
When youíre on the wrong side of the gun.
Jesus donít like no tattle tales,
He wants you just to mind your own,
Thereíll be plenty of things to talk about children
When youíre standing there at the throne.
Started pedaliní knick knacks
Thingamajigs and wares,
Steady diet of tic tacs,
Dried figs and gin-soaked pears.
There ainít no telliní
How long itís a-gonna last,
Yes Iím gettiní spread mighty thin.
Iím all worn out and Iím fadiní fast,
I need some more medicine.
And I said whoa, oh me,
Heís got a hold on me.
I said whoa, oh me,
Got a letter this morniní
Shannonís on the run,
Post marked from Buenos Ares,
Sheís got her freckles out in the sun.
She better stay out of trouble lord,
Unless she wants to put up a fight.
Now if she gets a taste of that potato liquor,
Sheíll be howliní at the moon all night.
I think Iíll head down to Dixie land,
Where at least I gotta place to hide.
I owe the devil more than Iím worth,
Save your breath Iíve already tried.
Lord knows Iíve already tried.
I think Iíll hit up the church,
Confess my sins, and put some money in that offeriní plate,
And if anyone asks if youíve seen me around,
Tell them theyíll just have to wait.
[Thanks to Joshua Panda for lyrics]