|
HEART OF HICKORY |
|
It's a habit to be hip |
|
Like a donkey with a whip |
|
Or an epileptic pantomime |
|
Blowing bubbles with a torch |
|
On your dad's front porch |
|
Peeling off the stitches from your spine |
|
And when the love is dead |
|
Come and get your butcher knife! |
|
Open up my heart and make me happy |
|
Come and get your butcher knife! |
|
Quarterback got the sack |
|
crack backpackers in a black Cadillac |
|
How we sang with the gang |
|
It's the world that makes us cry |
|
They say it's dangerous out here inside these woods |
|
But the more you give the more you break |
|
this narcissistic loving that they planted in your brain |
|
when you were young |
|
Oh, come and get your butcher knife! |
|
Open up my heart and make me happy |
|
Come and get your butcher knife! |
|
The devil's on your bed playing ducks and drakes |
|
with all the pictures from your wasted youth |
|
He pays a penny for you lies, |
|
a dime for truth |
|
Count the nickels for your pills and booze |
|
Oh, come and get your butcher knife! |
|
Open up my heart and make me happy |
|
Come and get your butcher knife! |
