Listening to the story of an angry old man He had the whole world in his pocket but He had a hole there in his hand Never had much trouble fitting into his surroundings Dived headlong into life And ended up by drowning Died by drowning His blood is pure venom and his teeth are solid gold His clothes are made from human skin He's a thousand years old He lives down by the poisoned stream Where only alligators swim Sits there drinking moonshine Playing a mean violin a mean violin A really wicked violin
You've got four lines on your forehead And that tells me that you're worried Don't shoot my dog Don't shoot my dog I said please don't shoot my dog
His wife is laying face down in the pool upon the porch He spied me through his blindness As I spied her with my torch His skin goes tight around his face As he smiles his blinding smile Points over to a dozen wives laying in a pile Laying in a pile pile high
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