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American Wheeze lyrics
I've grown tired
Of the words of the single man
Hangin' lifeless on his every word
O no man
You don't understand dear man
The little angel held out her hand
Sayin' father, father I love you
O praise Jesus I got you
Okay yeah, billy goat
An' we'll play farm
I didn't mean to spirit stiff you
Nor to do you no harm
You say you've got a bone to pick
Well, there's plenty showin' on me
Come on up yeah, bring your temper boy
We'll see, we'll see
Yeah, you may be the one
Come on son
Bring your blade
And your gun
And if I die
By your hand
I've gotta home
In glory land, yeah, yeah
Ahh, my Lord
Part of these releases
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- Track 9 on Sackcloth 'n' Ashes
- 8 Heel on the Shovel
- 10 Red Neck Reel
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