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NINE POUND HAMMER
The Mud, the Blood, and the Beers
Gear Head Blues
Word's around McDonald's There's a new kid in town Blew in from McLean County, Fastest ride around The Dukes don't believe what they done heard: King lost by five car lengths And then he lost his nerve. Don't know who done it, but He blew away the King Rumor fancy turbo feedin' his machine
Well the King and his friends are the real live Dukes Readin' hot rod mags in the back of Algebra class Don't give a damn about nothin' at all 'cept for a four-barrel carb and an over-haul
King told the kids He was Number One Said it was his town They's gonna have to run Final showdown at the 4th Street light Howlin' full moon on a hot summer night
CHORUS: Pedal to the metal First sight of green Send shivers down your spine When you hear those hemi's scream The Duke sat stunned as the kid pulled away To leave the King a pauper to try another day.
Runaway Train
I hear a fuzzy AM station As I head toward my chosen damnation Runaway train, leaving town Ain't gonna be seen around
Gonna catch that 9:05, get outta this town alive
Soldiers of fortune, paupers of peace Fight over my soul while I sleep Rollin' rhythm, ease my mind Gonna leave this town behind
Last train leavin' town Ain't gonna be seen around no more
At night I lay in my bed and dream, and hear that lonesome whistle scream
Now the smoke you see ain't from the mill They're burnin' Vonnegut and Zeppelin on Mount Pleasant Hill
Gonna catch that 9:05 I'm getting' out of this town alive
Lookin' for Someone  (Moore) Driving, driving in my car Down by the singles bar Tell me, tell me where can I find her Tell me, tell me, has anyone seen her?
Saw her picture in a girlie magazine Just might have been my wet dream Lookin' here, Lookin' there Lookin' lookin' everywhere
Driving, driving in my car Going down to the singles bar Lookin' here, Lookin' there Lookin' lookin' everywhere
Little Help 
Self-righteous condemnation Against those who don't share my view I pick the easiest targets My expert opinion, nothin' new You'd think there's something wrong with us The way we praise ourselves No-risk confrontations give my conscience a little help
You can see I need a little help But I won't change, 'cause I love myself
Too bad guys like us Don't know when to stop As life-long friends grow tired 'cause we only got each other to knock
Drive-In 
Couldn't find a girl Couldn't start a fight Wound up at the drive-in On a Saturday night Not enough money for the boys to get drunk Had to flip a coin To see who'd hide in the trunk Spend all week listening to the teacher Wind up at a sex romp double feature Don't seem fair, don't seem right Stuck at the drive-in on a Saturday night Well me and the boys gonna try our hand Picking up girls at the concession stand Hey there pretty baby, by the popcorn stand You're prettier than the actress on the 50 foot screen Me and the boys traveled far Some "OFF" and blankets back at the car Your mommy ain't here So it's all right Stuck at the drive-in on a Saturday night! Well me and the boys done all right so far Some cuties and french fries back at the car The lights went off and the movie came on It was "The Naked Nurses that Ate Saigon" Sherri called it dirty Mary called it porn But when it broke in the middle, They honked the horn During intermission, we turned it down low, And danced on the hood to the radio Second feature started We were long gone Took 'em home, said, "good-night Meet you at the drive-in next Saturday night"
She's So Cool 
Pasted pictures on the wall of groups she's never seen A walking, talking tribute to the fashion magazines Too hip for the suburbs Too scared of the streets All she wants out of life are rave reviews From everyone she meets
She's so cool Too cool for me
Her parents buy her a car Her parents buy her clothes She talks of far-off places, but she never goes When she's stoned, she's the queen Of her own little world A would-be femme fatale Just daddy's little girl
She's so cool Too cool for me
She wants to be a star, Wants to start a band, Probably just go shopping, go home, get a tam Here is the story of her misspent life Probably end up being another suburban housewife
He's Gone 
Sally was the apple of Johnny's eye Johnny had ramblin' on his mind She'd called his house late one night Almost died when she got the reply
He's gone, he ran Gonna join a travelin' band Gonna sing for sold-out shows He's gone, ain't comin' home
Now Sally had to walk to school all alone Go to work, come straight home Spend all day trying not to weep Every night she cries herself to sleep
(CHORUS)
Well it was out in St. Louis Johnny hit GOLD Record man said "Your song is sold" All over the country they did roam But he thought about a love that he'd left at home
He sent a proposal in a sealed envelope Said they'd run away and elope He went to the mailbox with a gleam in his eye Almost died when he got the reply
She's gone, she ran Gonna join a travelin' band Gonna sing for sold-out shows She's gone, ain't comin' home
Smokin Taters
Long Gone Daddy
Cadillac Inn (Cartwright) With your glitter bandanna and your Sammy Hagar T-shirt, you're every trucker's dream. And heaven is ridin' around with the T-tops out, B.T.O. and ole Jim Beam. It's 2 a.m., the bars all closed, but the night's not over yet. Wastin' time with racist remarks, coffee and cigarettes.
Gonna hang out, gonna hang out Hangin' out at the Cadillac Inn Gonna hang out, gonna hang out Hangin' out at the Cadillac Inn
I remember you back in high school, you were such a sight, Then I saw you at the Ted Nugent show, you got kicked out for starting a fight. Puttin' lids on at the Ragu plant keeps you busy 9 to 5 Braggin read loud with your chainsaw voice about your boyfriend's engine size.
Everything You Know Is Wrong (Cartwright) Sittin' in the classroom, thumbin' through the pages of a white-washed history of well-fed caucasians Growin' up, wonderin' what's going on. It makes you want to scream and shout, but they tell ya it's nothing to worry about, 'cause the world always ends at your front lawn.
They build your life in an endless maze of ancient myths and worn cliches, Saying keep to yourself and quietly go along. Clean your plate, do as you're told, worship all that's bought and sold, til everything you know is wrong.
Breakfast with the conservative columnist who dreams his pen is John Wayne's fist He hammers the world into his narrow view Laugh at those who don't belong, quoting patriotic sing-alongs And wonders what this world is coming to They place your life on a moral grid, God's own scorecard which they keep hid Then pull out to condemn whenever needed. Forced to judge life, and what it brings, by trivial materialistic things Since the can't see the show from where they're seated.. MORE WORDS MISSING??????????
Feelin' Kinda Froggy (Luallen/Cartwright)
My grandpa Doc was a wild old man, if what I heard was true. He loved Wild Bird and raised horses, and fought in World War Two. Now he and his brother married the same girl, and if you're still confused, my uncle married my grandma when my daddy was only 2.
Grandpa Doc and Uncle Brooks would get along just fine. Hellraisin' in a '65 'Cuda, lovin' brothers til closing time. But her name came up, they'd go toe-to-toe, everybody'd hit the door. By the time the Sheriff'd get to 'em, they'd be out cold on the floor.
I do believe, they done passed it down, I'm out bird-doggin' chicks all over town. The Lord or the school won't do no good, I'm out getting' froggylike ever' hophead should.
Now when I was 13, my daddy left home, and it was plain to see--- There's whisky in the water in Coal Creek, Tennessee. But it ain't no thang, 'cause I got a brand-new bang from God's own sacred weed. I'll spend the rest of my screwed up life, feelin' kinda froggy.
Don't Get No (Cartwright) Drinkin' all night long to sad country songs, it's driving me insane Drownin' my fears in cheap American beer, lookin' for somebody to blame. Head for the mountains, go for the gusto. You only go 'round once in life. Seems I've spent most of mine on long drunken drives, makin' up excuses for an angry wife.
Now I'm cruisin' down I-75, throwin' my empties at the wrong way signs. I'm so wasted I can't see shit. And it don't get no better than this.
Now what in the hell am I doing in this cell? Did I get drunk and start a fight? One thing's fer certain, the way my head is hurtin', feels like I hit a bus last night Then it all came back, like one big crash. Rammin' God's children head-on. What can I say, it never happens this way in all those old Red Sovine songs.
When I was a kid I'd see beer commercials on TV. Girls, good times, havin' fun. Now I'm outside a PIK-PAK, tryin' to grab a 12-pack couldn't wait til I was 21.
Now I'm only as bold as I'm told by a drunken society. Now there's more blood on my can of Bud than there ever was in me.
Folsom Prison Blues ----- -----
Turned Traitor for a Piece of Tail (Luallen/Cartwright) This ol' world ain't nothin' but gravy, if you're lucky, a real friend or two. Start crossin' lines, everything gets blurred and hazy, nail your best friend's girl, You got nothin' to lose.
And you find yourself lookin' in the mirror. And you ask yourself why you're such a whore. The halo's gone and the horns are getting' clearer. Get it while you can, who's keepin' score?
Now, Jesus was a man, and you get tired of your hand All he wanted was a little taste. But Magdalene held his fate, And for all our goodness' sakes, Jesus kept his date with the nail.
You come to a fork in the road, and you don't know which way to go. Save your soul, or turn traitor for a piece of tail.
Us boys and girls drive each other crazy, feelin' like choptop in a meat factory. It's your big chance to be sinful and sleazy, the world might end, so get it while the gettin's good.
I'm on Fire -----you got me burnin' up like a paper cup.... -----
Wrong Side of the Road (Cartwright) Drinkin' the rest of last night's beer, staring at channel 5 Headin' down a one-way street, it's a wonder I'm still alive. Nothin' left to do, nothin' left to say But light another cigarette and mark off another day.
I'm travelin' down the wrong side of the road. Save your advice, I ignore what I'm told. We're all takin' bets on how much longer I can last I'm on the wrong side of the road, waitin' to crash
All those friends I used to know, they never come around. They copied their life off a TV screen, grew up and settled down. Reminisce in bars is all that they do now. Like if they talk about it long enough, it'll all come back somehow.
I listen to the preacher talk about the God of Love, the one we're supposed to fear. I'd sit real still in my good clothes, listening to what we wanted to hear Talk about the things that are supposed to set you free---Jesus or Jack Daniels, it's all the same to me
Headbangin' Stockboy ----- -----
The Weasel ----- -----
Hayseed Timebomb
Hayseed Timebomb (Cartwright) Crypt Publishing, Inc. He's got a one bedroom trailer, an' a brand-new satellite dish, a warm beer an' a remote control in his two clenched fists, An' he sits in his chair, thinking of all the things he's missed. Livin' on crank, pork rinds, and cold beer. It's Saturday night, time to go hunt some queers. With his momma's .38, he can blow away all his fears.
He's a hayseed time bomb, livin' in a turkey shoot. He's thumbin' into town, to try an' sell his boots. He spent all his money on a one-eyed prostitute. He's headin' into town, riding on a derailed train. The devil's playin' skeeball deep inside his brain! People in this town will never forget his name.
Skin a Buck (Cartwright/Suys) Crypt Publishing Inc. Well, I shot my cousin's butt off, in a huntin' accident, and he jumps every time a door slams, and can't work because of the limp. I didn't really mean to do it, an' it happened a long time ago. But I'll never tarnish the words that satisfy my soul SKIN A BUCK I'm half covered in skunk piss, sittin' up in a tree. I'm so goddamn wasted, gonna shoot anything I see. Last night while I was huntin', I fell asleep and had a dream, that all the deers had rifles an' they were comin' after me SKIN A BUCK Well I got my first rifle when I was only ten. It kicked and bruised my shoulder, and then I became a man. Shootin' from the back of a pickup, huntin' for our next meal. Daddy at the spotlight, Mama at the wheel. SKIN A BUCK
Stranded Outside Tater Knob (Cartwright) Crypt Publishing, Inc. Raised on a diet of No-Doz, donuts, an' diesel emissions, Listenin' to wrinkled old men dronin' on about the weather and road conditions. Stayin;five miles ahead of whatever's behind, wonderin' where I went wrong. And the strange city signs start to sound like rhymes in a never-ending song.
Just a one-horse town---no motel or bar. Just a wax museum, of dead HEE-HAW stars. You don't look in a mirror, when you're cold and mean. Stranded outside Tater Knob, with just a JUGGS magazine.
Well I was sittin' at a table in a topless bar at the end of Music Row. Watchin' fat girls strip to Molly Hatchett songs, hopin' their stretch marks won't show. I spent my last dime on a watered-down drink, and I'm headed out for the door. Before I could kick myself for comin' here, I was already back for more.
My ex-wife ran a whorehouse on the highway out of town, they used to give special truckers' rates before the Baptists burned it down. She had a tattoo on her inner thigh, said "if you can read this, yer too close". We used to drive five miles for the nearest cold beer and bitch about the lives we chose.
Run Fat Boy, Run (Cartwright) Crypt Publishing, Inc. Chicken Box, corn dog, hot grits, pecan logs, watermelon, pigs feet, fried squirrel, head cheese. Pork brains, sweet tea, hamhocks, butter beans, chopped mutton, bugoo, bananner puddin, Yoo-Hoo!
RUN FAT BOY, RUN! RUN FAT BOY, RUN!
Frog's legs, funnel cake, fatback, Ale-8, spare ribs, bar-b-q, moon pies, Mountain Dew. Cornbread, Texas Pete, Duck-n-Dumplings, jowels with teeth. Buttered biscuits, Little Debbies, Bunny Bread, whistleberries!
RUN FAT BOY, RUN! RUN FAT BOY, RUN!
(Jack salmon?) Collard greens, gumbo, steak fries, Ho-Ho's, catfish, candied yams, ceviled eggs, country ham. Slawburger, fried pies, sweet potatoes, pork rinds, possum sack, deer meat, neck roast, sugarbeets. Whipped taters, rabbit stew, goat nuts, Goo Goos. Breakfast bar, Meat-n-3, feedin' time, Let's Eat!
RUN FAT BOY, RUN! RUN FAT BOY, RUN!
Wreck of the Old 97 (traditional, arranged by Johnny Cash) ------ ------
Shakey Puddin' (Cartwright/Luallen) Crypt Publishing, Inc.
When I was 10, froggy 'n' bad, the first taste of puddin' I ever had, my sister's friend, sweet little Sue. In the backyard, in a little shed, first time that I was fed--- that tasty dish, just for two.
C'mon gimme some of that shakey puddin', cause it's so doggone good. You know I love your lovin', honeywouldn't quit you if I could.
Well I was raised a little cad, with a stack of Playboys my daddy had, soon I was on the road to sin. Some Catholic girls liked to play along, sneakin' out to Van Halen songs. That began my life-long binge. I thought about a normal life, instead of runnin' around half the night, takin' someone to slow me down. I could be some girl's Mister Right, settle down, three kids and a wife, that really don't sound so bad.
C'mon gimme some of that shakey puddin', cause it's so doggone good. You know I love your lovin', honeywouldn't quit you if I could.
Devil's Playground
Steamroller (Luallen/Cartwright) Crypt Publishing, Inc.
My daddy was a snakehandler, I'm a' gonna be one too! Big fuzzy head, I lived in a shed away from you. You drag me into town, yer little mutant clown-burgoo. I escaped and ran away, now yer gonna pay
You better run, I'm havin' fun, Comin'after you, Now yer part of the street. Kiss my feet
I'm gonna hotwire a steamroller. I'm gonna come after you. Bury you up to yer neck. Roll over yer head, yer through! You made my life a livin' hell, soon you;ll have that deathly smell. Got the lord on my side, try to run and hide, I'll find you
You better run, I'm havin' fun, Comin'after you, Now yer part of the street. Kiss my feet
I'm gonna foil yer master plan, now I'm gonna be the man. Guess what I'll have to do, I'll turn you into Bar-B-Q. Now's the time to sing a song, do you want to sing along? Hindu Lindu Squaw Wah Pig. A chair on a macaroon, some soup and a wig!
Shotgun in a Chevy (Cartwright) Crypt Publishing, Inc.
Got a '68 Chevy that his cousin bought in '71. Traded 98 dollars and his daddy's lucky shotgun. Christened the back bumper with a half-empty bottle of beer. In the back of his mind, he could hear all the people cheer. He used to sleep in school, hopin' no one would call his name, as the teacher tried to turn 'em out all the same. Get up every mornin', do the work you're expected to, and at night, sit and count the crumbs thrown to you. He inherited a job at the local distillery. Where he had all day to sit and think of what would never be. Somewhere along the line, he'd been deceived. Get stoned, read the Bible, an' pretend he still believed. Rollin' down the road with his foot to the floor. Passin' the same farms and fields as every time before. Nothin' haunts a man like knowin' that he's free to choose. So he lets up off the gas when he thinks of all he's got to lose. Well, you work all day, live just like a slave. Hustlin' for a seat on the slow shuttle to the grave. There's a bottom to every bottle and the only thing that ever lasts-------- is riding shotgun in a Chevy and countin' all the cars you pass.
Fuck Pie (Cartwright) Crypt Publishing, Inc.
When you're hit, turn the other cheek, God always rewards the meek. I believed that shit when I was young. Turned out to be another scam, and it seems the older I am, the closer I get to buyin' a gun
You know, I'd set the whole world straight, but I'm too busy just getting' by. There's never enough to compensate, so have another slice of Fuck Pie.
Back when I was young and naïve, I word my influences on my sleeve. Preached from the safety of my bedroom floor. Tried in vain to steer my peers away from superstition and fears. Only thing I learned was: always lock your door.
I'm not cynical, I've just seen too much. Sometimes I wonder why I even try. Only choice you got is where to eat your lunch, to have another slice of Fuck Pie.
So go ahead an' scream and shout about things you can do nothing about. Get back up, every time you're knocked down. One day you're gonna see, that all the powers that be, always make enough crosses to go around.
Outta The Way, Pigfuckers (Cartwright/Luallen) Crypt Publishing, Inc. Well, I gotta go, down the road Outta my way, Pigfuckers, it's getting old I'm leavin town, anywhere bound Call my name, I won't be found.
With your Wal-Mart gossip, and country-fried philosophy, toothless witticisms abut farm machinery Just a greasy ham stuffed with high-school football scores, I'm hittin' the road, mister, I cant take it anymore.
Jacked-up high-school jarheads tradin' licks at the Dairy Queen. Line-dancing silicon bimbos trying to be seen. A thousand well-placed hand grenades in the local mall, my little way of sayin' "Goodbye to all y'all!"
Well, anyone can see, it's been home to better than me, so I guess I'd better watch what I say. But what am I supposed to do, the one thing I know is true: the only time I like it is when I'm far away
Adios, Farewell, Goodbye, Good Luck, So Long (Buck Owens) I don't wanna see you peepin' thru my window, I don't wanna hear you call me on the phone. I don't want you knockin' on my door babe, A, F, G, GL, So Long
Well, you put me thru the paces like a champion
Well, it's gonna take another act of Congress, to convince you that our love affair is through
Slam Bang (Steve Arnsen/Dave Duncan---originally written and recorded by Snare and the Idiots)
Your arm looks like a railroad track, and you ain't got no friends, tomorrow you say you'll be all right but the trouble, it never ends.
Cocaine and horse and Dilaudid, its a heavy duty concoction, you will shoot anything you can get your hands on.
Well you're livin on a lunatic fringe, on an all-nite shootin' binge, your drunken lifestyle really makes me wanna cringe. Well, you'll make it with anybody who'll keep you in the money, to keep that needle livin' in your arm.
Slam bang, right down the mainline, slam bang, tickles down your spine, slam bang, you're killin' yourself now...Cocaine and horse and Dilaudid, its a heavy duty concoction, you will shoot anything you can get your hands on.
When you're kneelin down at the altar, thinkin of holy water, askin god to have mercy on your soul...as youre kneelin down at the altar, your senses start to falter, "help me lord, I'm headed for an overdose"
Slam bang, right down the mainline, slam bang, tickles down your spine, slam bang, you're killin yourself now...Cocaine and horse and Dilaudid, its a heavy duty concoction, you will shoot anything you can get your hands on.
(SPOKEN)As youre lyin in the gutter, O.D.'d on peanut butter, mom and dad say "drugs made you their slave" As you lie there in the gutter, these are the last words that youll mutter: I want everybody ta start pissin on my grave. SAY WHAT? I want everybody ta start pissin on my grave.
Slam bang, right down the mainline, slam bang, tickles down your spine, slam bang, you're killin yourself now...Cocaine and horse and Dilaudid, its a heavy duty concoction, you will shoot anything you can get your hands on. You will shoot anything you can get your hands on.
KENTUCKY BREAKDOWN
1- Intro (audio clip from movie: The Wild Bunch)
2-Rub Your Daddy's Lucky Belly (lyrics: Cartwright)
Work the same job for 25 years Boss still don't know my name Whether I screw up or tow the line Things stay about the same Break my back making a rich man richer What am I working for Just to send my wife to buy crap I don't need At the all-night discount store
CHORUS: So roll me a joint, fix me a turkey pot pie It's just another damn day on the long wait to die I'll pretend to care about all the things you tell me If you just come on over, Rub Your Daddy's Lucky Belly
Became a raging drunk, right out of high school Quit then became a bore Spend my life worrying about things I once ignored Night after night, nothing to do in front of the TV again Just dig my grave by the La-Z-Boy when I die just roll me in
CHORUS
3- He Done Run Outta Worms Lyrics: Luallen
He Done Run Outta Worms There's a boy who liked to fish Some night's he'd never miss Throw a line here, throw a line there Soon he had a line thrown everywhere He done run outta worms That boy will never learn
Leave him alone, and he'll pinch your weed Every party, he's asked to leave No one stops by, starin' at the phone He's sittin' home all alone He done run outta worms That boy will never learn
A nice young man who had it all He grew up rich, blonde, and tall. He lost his job and watched the wife leave after He started to whore and thieve He done run outta worms That boy will never learn
4- Dead Dog Highway (lyrics: Cartwright) Well I'm counting dead dogs on the highway Praying for a place to piss And any sign or anyone that can tell me Whatever road this is Tore out of town on a dark two-lane blacktop 'Til it and you were out of sight There was nothing ever really wrong dear Just nothing really right You can almost hear a steel guitar playing As you sang your medly of lies I'm like the hound that asked that deadly question "What's on the other side?" You were an angel the day that I met you A devil the next day on I stopped counting the ways that I love you And started counting the days 'til I was gone I blew off life and went rolling down the highway I forgot just how good it feels One more drink will wipe away your memory Like washing blood from my wheels This road can't go on forever Even if I want it too Like counting dead dogs on the highway Kind of makes me think about you You can almost hear a steel guitar playing As you sang your medly of lies I'm like the hound that asked that deadly question "What's on the other side?"
5- Go, Three Go (Look at Earnhardt) Just another 'neck from Caroline Had a blood hound's nose for the finish line Born with a foot that was made of lead So ornery and mean, they called him Iron Head
Tied the King for 7 Cups Gonna teach a lesson to those young pups Them pretty boys don't stand a chance They see him comin' and piss their pants Now he's divin' low and the crowd yells "Go, 3, go!"
Behind the wheel, he ain't no saint Piss him off, and you'll be tradin paing He thought D.W. was a pain in the ass Every chance he got, he'd put him in the grass
He ruled every track, from Rock to Dega Got a concrete block on the accelerator Lift off the gas and he'll see you later He's the man in black, the Intimidator! Now he's divin' low and the crowd yells "Go, 3, go!"
6-Drunk, Tired and Mean (lyrics: Cartwright) The way you talk makes me ignore every single word So I think of something else and fake it with the few I think I've heard She used to pray each night for god to come and wash away my sins But I'd just wake up and do them all over again
CHORUS: I knew it wouldn't last you never bothered to ask I'm just another bum who hopped on the wrong train You're lucky you're just my wife Because I've been like this my whole life I was born Drunk, Tired and Mean
I was brought up by desperate fools Trying to drink away a small town curse Until the day I met you baby Things just started getting worse Now I'm too old to even remember Just what might have been But I sure as hell wouldn't do any of this again
CHORUS
7- Double Super Buzz Gotta Double Super Buzzzzz.... Yes, you are hearing is the infamous egg line from Jesco White: The Dancing Outlaw "....and I took the butcher knife and put it up to her neck. I said, iff you want to live to see tomorrow, you better start fryin' them eggs a little bit better than what you a fryin' 'em... I'm tired of eatin' sloppy, slimy, eggs!"
8-Ain't Hurtin Nobody  (This song is loosely based on the August 1993 killing of Gary Earl Shepherd (1948-1993), by Kentucky State Police. Gary was a disabled Vietnam veteran in Broadhead (Rockcastle County), Kentucky, who used marijuana for medical relief. For more info on the case: http://www.drcnet.org/guide2-95/gary.html) I ain't hurtin' nobody So get off of my land What part of this sentence Don't you understand
I'm trying to fix my truck I gotta go to work Now I know that yer the law, But somebody's gonna wind up hurt Before you open up Remember these words I said I got a feelin' Somebody's gonna wind up dead
They're hidin' in the woods They got a chopper in the air I've only got one good arm This fight really don't seem fair Yeah, I grow a little weed Like everyone around So if you boys were smart You'd be headin' back to town Cauze I won this Purple Heart For bein' a killin' machine And I got no problem with Treatin' you people mean.
9- Don't Remember Lovin' You Last Night Just another high school field party With a couple of kegs of Red, White, and Blue I saw you dancin' by the bonfire To Judas Priest and Motley Crue. I asked you if you wanted some Southern Comfort You chased it with some warm Mountain Dew In the back of my brother's El Camino We had a little party for two Here's the sad party of the story: I woke up all alone A big ol' hickey and a cloudy memory I'm really sorry honey, I don't remember lovin' you last night.
I was workin' the door down at the Roadhouse The beer was free, the view was good I thought I'd seen it all til you showed up You came in like a bolt from the blue. Yer red hair was flowin' and you were just barely showin' And you sure could cut a rug It was love at first sight, but try as I might, I don't remember lovin' you last night.
I'm sure you think it's very funny And I really don't know what to say I wouldn't trade it for love or money I'm really sorry honey I don't remember lovin' you last night.
10- Zebra Lounge He finished off the bottle and broke it over his head Said 'fore the night is over, my old lady's gonna wind up dead Out in my car---my daddy's Colt .45 He liked to quote the Bible, especially that 'tooth for a tooth' Gonna carry out the word, on that adulteress in that booth Now, I don't know that man, guess he's shit outta luck. The word's all over town There's a killin' down at the Zebra Lounge
When the law finally got there, he was sittin' at the bar They put the cuffs on him, and led him to the car He said, "boys, what do ya think, I really got her good" The word's all over town There's a killin' down at the Zebra Lounge
The judge finally asked him, what was goin' through his head He said "Besides crank and Beam, the sight of him in my bed." I loved her to death, now you can take my last breath. The word's all over town There's a killin' down at the Zebra Lounge
11.- 800 Miles (lyrics: Cartwright) CHORUS: 800 miles to the Georgia crossroads I'm going to see my baby there If I don't look back The devil can't catch me So baby, baby, I'll meet you there Came upon (Came upon) The river of darkness (River of darkness) Couldn't help But put my foot in Then I jumped back (Then I jumped back) Jesus did catch me (Jesus did catch me) He Picked me up I was saved again
CHORUS
My Mamma told me (Mama told me) When I was a baby (I was a baby) The Devil will haunt (Devil will haunt) A hungry man Through the bad times (Through the bad times) Through the heartache (Through the heartache) Stay one step ahead (One step ahead) If you can
CHORUS
12- If You Want to Get to Heaven (You've gotta raise a little hell)  Cash/Dillon (This song is a cover of a 1974-era hit by the Ozark Mountain Daredevils) I never read it in a book I never saw it on a show But i heard it in the alley on the weird radio.
If you want a drink of water You got to get it from the well. If you wanna get to heaven You got to raise a little hell.
I never felt it in my feet Or felt it in my soul But i heard it in the alley Now its in my rock and roll.
If you wanna know a secret You got to promise not to tell. If you wanna get to heaven You got to raise a little hell.
I never thought it'd be so easy I never thought it'd be so fun. But I heard it in the alley Now I got it on the run.
If you wanna see an angel You got to find it where it fell. If you wanna get the heaven You got to raise a little hell.
13- Chicken Hi, Chicken Lo (lyrics: Cartwright) Where you gonna go You don't wanna know Sorry it's so Saw the preacher comin' up the road Hit you in the head Better be dead Pastor's knockin' He's an ass 'til he gets fed Skillet's gettin' hot Bean's in the pot Momma's cookin' bread Daddy's mad 'coz the chicken ain't dead ONE TWO THREE FOUR Chicken ain't gonna talk no more Company's comin' Cousins are runnin' Fightin' over seats Put on your shoes if you wanna eat Wrung his neck Now he can't peck Runnin through the yard Without his head he won't get far Hungry as hell Ring the damn dinner bell Supper's on the way Just dig in don't even pray FIVE SIX SEVEN ATE All God's children think chicken's great Where ya gonna go? Hungry as hell YUM YUM YUM!
14- God Damn Right (lyrics: Cartwright)
Kentucky know-it-alls Coming back again To remind you how You just can't win
CHORUS: You're God Damn Right You're God Damn Right If you think this keeps me up at night And drives me crazy You're God Damn Right You better sell your soul You better break your back Start saving up For your heart attack
CHORUS
There is a 'They" And they are out to get you You can run away Or join a militia CHORUS
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