While buzzards bray their rackety refrain. Strange angels sang while curtains fell around.
Keeping God up all night, begging for mercy Growing tighter till his heartlight choked away. Like the broken fingers of an up-jumped, beaten slave He’d hacked their knotty hides to smithereens. So was it a coincidence or was it a strange case of me channeling the mind of a madman?īy the black swamp-blood that beats within these words?Ī word in prayer ere he harvested his trees,Īs the bleeding sap soaked the fallen leaves. Turns out he really was a Leo born in August! This is the story of the very real “killer hobo”, Angel Maturino Resendiz, who wreaked havoc across Illinois and Kentucky on a rail riding murder spree.įunny thing about this song: I arbitrarily made Angel a Leo just so I could use the phrase “Lucky Leo on the Lam”. Now my goatboots are wrapped around a telephone line. I’m hanging upside down from a switchyard maildrop.ĭirt daubers buzzin’, bout to lose my mind.
Lyrics vein of stars crack#
The Rust Belt buckles at the crack of my shotgun.īloodhounds huffin’ Lucky Tiger in my flattop
Lyrics vein of stars full#
They’re a draggin’ that crooked creek bed full of bad blood.Ĭlimb to the top of a whole hill of headbones. Hey hey hey, I’m a poor boy bound to die. Lord lord lord, I’m a lucky Leo on the lam. You can’t get no action if your standin’ still.įrom the day I was born til the day I became a man My junco partner popped a bottle o’ pills. So I hopped me a ride with the Pennsyltucky Pollock. If it bleeds, it leads on the eleven o’clock Moonshine whiskey flowing backwards through my jug’ vein. Got a jacked-up face, buncha blood in my spit can. It’s a white knuckle ride on the back of a junk train. Out of Hell’s Half Acre from a downtown drunk tank, Those sleazy, no-good clowns out hustlin and gettin’ it on.
This is what’s running through the mind of every one of those greasy, jive-ass turkeys pimpin it out on the streets. ‘Cause I’m a jumpin’ Jim Dandy, doin’ a hillbilly boogaloo. You can smell me comin’ by the Listerine,ĭon’t knock my gold tooth out, I need it for more ‘Cause I’m a jumpin’ Jim Dandy doin’ a hillbilly boogaloo. PISS AND VINEGARīreak out the brown paper and the sippin’ wine So I walk her to bed… for two losers final stretch home. The ‘pony to bet on’, well, she’s a sad one, but not as sad as the tears that I shed. To pulling hayrides for people in small town parades down to the fair. Oh how I wish you were here with us today.
Well this tarnished old loving cup is empty.īut the whiskey and the bullets are plenty. The ‘pony to bet on’, yeah, she’s a sad oneįor that slow, losing final stretch home. Getting drunk in the yard, brushing her hair. Now the ‘pony to bet’ on is the old nag I sit on The points kept on spreadin’ til you called off the wedding Yeah, all the bookies and betters, never banked on the weather THE PONY TO BET ONīut in her heyday, there was no filly faster, He lopped them off and left them on the table. With the Pidgin English spoken, the wormwood will be brokenĪnd the Devil will come and crack me outta my casket. Let the punkin roots sing praises in Pig Latin. Prancin’ down the bridal path past your papa.ĭelilah and Bathsheba, Jezebel and even Eve had more to offer, Where’s the Devil when you need him right away? I’m spinnin’ in my grave, chapel bells toll away My baby’s gettin’ married while I lay dead and buriedĭeep beneath the binds of Extreme Unction. The warlord of all bloodshed is under the floorboard of the woodshed Where the devil is the Devil, have you seen him? I’m on the level, let me know if you happen across
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