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Malcolm Holcombe - Butcher In Town lyrics

Deep in the south
The cypress steals
Cobweb moss
All gray in the middle

No wind no rain
Keeps a good man down
Sweatin' and a grinnin'
Way down south

You aint from here
When the sh** hits the fan
There's more meat on(for the) a pencil
From (for) the butcher in town

Whiskey money
Money and gold
Splashin' spit
Hard to swallow

Ten foot tall
Deep in the water
Too deaf to call
Damn ready to follow


Hundred dollar bill's
Jus' backpocket preachin'
No sign to the edgewise
Drinkin' good whiskey
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Loud and heavy
Like a dogday bluejay
Blacksnake lungs
Gonna slide down singin'


Under the thumbs of the
Cannons and guns and a
Swattin' flies in the
Stink of an eye

I dont claim a thing
Not a two bit clue
But somebody whispered
War k**s the truth


Ev'ry word in a hand
Gonna fly like a crow
Better shut my mouth
To the promised land

All black and white
From the wars of the souls
Too much whiskey
Money and gold


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