16 Shells From A 30.6歌词

I plugged sixteen shells from a thirty-ought six

And a black crow snuck through a hole in the sky

So I spent all my buttons on an old pack mule

Oh, and I made me a ladder from
A pawn shop marimba

And I leaned it up against a dandelion tree

Leaned it up against a dandelion tree

Leaned it up against a dandelion tree

Ma, cook them feathers on a tire iron spit

And I filled me a sachel full of old pig corn

And I beat me a billy from an old French horn

Whoa, and I kicked that
Mule to the top of the tree

Kicked that mule to the top of the tree

Blew me a hole 'bout the size of a kickdrum

And I cut me a switch
From a long branch elbow

I'm gonna whittle you into kindlin''

Black crow, sixteen shells
From a thirty-ought six

Whittle you into kindlin'

Black crow, sixteen shells from a thirty-ought six

Well, I slept in the holler of a dry creek bed

And I tore out the buckets from a red Corvette

Tore out the buckets from a red Corvette

Lionel and Dave and the Butcher made three

Oh, you got to meet me by the
Knuckles of the skinnybone tree

With the strings of a
Washburn stretched like a clothes line

Oh, you know me and that mule
Scrambled right through the hole

Me and that mule scrambled
Right through the hole

I'm gonna whittle you into kindlin'

Black crow, sixteen shells

From a thirty-ought six

Whittle you into kindlin'

Black crow, sixteen shells
From a thirty-ought six

Now I hold him prisoner in a Washburn jail

That I strapped on the back of my old kick mule

Strapped it on the back of my old kick mule

I bang on the strings just to drive him crazy

Oh, I strum it loud to rattle his cage

Strum it loud just to rattle his cage

Strum it loud just to rattle his cage

Strum it loud just to rattle his cage

Whoa, I'm gonna whittle you into kindlin'

Black crow
Sixteen shells from a thirty-ought six

Whittle you into kindlin'

Black crow
Sixteen shells from a thirty-ought six