I woke up in a barnyard when I heard a farmer shout. Get away, boy, from my daughter, then a shot gun rang out.
Should I string her up or strangle her in bed, suffocate that venomous head? Or perhaps I'll just whip her to death. Listen, do me a favor, kill my wife.
Everybody sings from their diaphragm.
All you did was wreck my bed and in the morning kick me in the head.
I said hello unnoticed, you said good-bye too soon.
It has gone past me now, the writing phase.