Horse Head

Come to my house an we'll pick bones

There hands outside ready with stones

Come to my yard

I got whiskey an chirs

We'll sit on the porch

As the good men stare





You ain't never spoke true

I shake an angry fist at you

You are not needed here

To help me feel low down

I'm doin' it fine all on my own





I her you cryin' from cradle to coffin

An for you there'll be no stoppin'

I see you lyin' in a pine box with bitter words

That's how the boy talks


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