We're six merry men at the old whiskey shed Swinging wild on our feet, blind and high as a fife 'Round, 'round the barrel 'til its belly is bled And every man's pissing fire and howling for life
One for the glut, one for the Lord One for the elk on the balcony board Hold the man flat, wall up the door Every man takes a turn
We're six merry men at the old whiskey shed Swinging wild on our feet, blind and high as a fife 'Round, 'round the barrel 'til its belly is bled And every man's pissing fire and howling for life
Stuck to the floorboards with teeth in his hair And a cleft arm splashing in the pool by his hip As crazy boy Levi, as mad as a mare Wipes his good blade twice upon the sweat on his lip Stomping our prayer, Indian-eyed Half way to Concord and fit to be tied Knives in the roof, guts in the rye Every man takes a turn
We're six merry men at the old whiskey shed Swinging wild on our feet, blind and high as a fife 'Round, 'round the barrel 'til its belly is bled And every man's pissing fire and howling for life
Hissing and screams spilling out of his side Where his hands turn to plug at the holes in his vest Tall Dan's gone mute, boys, as shy as a bride Drink up, man, and wet your thirsty boots in his chest Twitching in tongues, breaking on chairs One fouls the rug, one crawls the stairs Hung by the bar, Madison cheers Every man takes a turn
We're six merry men at the old whiskey shed Swinging wild on our feet, blind and high as a fife 'Round, 'round the barrel 'til its belly is bled And every man's pissing fire and howling for life
One of us pants, one of us weeps Line up the shots and four days 'til sleep Soaking in blood, pale as a sheet It's good to be aliveTeksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
