The man he stepped up to the microphone and he gave it a kiss. It was a big wet, slippery kiss. And he had sweat dripping off of his nose onto the windscreen
He's standin' tall at 5 foot 4, with the sharpness of a troubadour. I dare you look him in the eye. His stench would make a buzzard cry. He likes Burt
Glad you came, glad you're here. Have some champagne, imported beer. Dig down in your dirt bag and roll us out a spleef. Been erect here now for thirteen
Burnin', I feel a burnin' in my stomach, I wanna know if I'm a gonna make it. If I don't just spread my ashes, if I do just spread your mind. Swimmin
Went down to Coddingtown to buy for Lucky Dog. Moved on up to Sono-co to clear my head of smog. People round town they all line up to buy them Chevrolets
They found James Ambrose dead in his cell, a gaping gash in his arm had drained him down to hell. No one knew for sure if Ambrose was his name. They called
They broke out in laughter again, his lip beaded with sweat as they strapped him in, and he stood by and waited to be called. The talk was of times that
Pass the pen there Billy Bob, I'll write us up a song. Or perhaps I'll pen a sonnet, if the melody sits all wrong. Hand me down a crayon, and I'll draw
When I was born, the doc he held me by my ankles smacked my red behind. They hosed me down, wrapped me like a bean burrito then marked the date and time
Came up on a worried man, asked him if he had a light. He reached on down, dug in his shoe, figured in his sock he might. He asked if he could come and
There's a time for lies and a time for truth. I say, eye for an eye, eye for a tooth. When I roamed young, I'd scavenge around. Every nook and cranny
He was a mighty golden boy, as gold as ever seen, but when he stepped up to the podium, you could tell that boy was mean. His arms was made of nickel,
Fellow colleges, distinguished members of the press, ladies and gentlemen: I would like to take this opportunity to personally and humbly thank each
A B C D E F G H I gotta' gal wears her toenails long. Drives a red Barracuda, singin' meat packer songs And she ain't from Kalamazoo. A B C D E F G H
The man he stepped up to the microphone and he gave it a kiss, it was a big wet, slippery kiss And he had sweat dripping off of his nose onto the windscreen
He's standin' tall at 5 foot 4 With the sharpness of a troubadour I dare you look him in the eye His stench would make a buzzard cry He likes Burt in
I went down to Coddingtown To buy for Lucky Dog Moved on up to Sono-co To clear my head of smog People 'round town they all line up To buy them Chevrolets
They found James Ambrose dead in his cell A gaping gash in his arm had drained him down to Hell No one knew for sure in Ambrose was his name They called
