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16 Horsepower - American Wheeze
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I've grown tired, of the words of the single man
Hangin' lifeless on his every word -- oh, no man
You don't understand dear man
The little angel held out her hand
Sayin' father, father I love you
Oh, praise Jesus I got you

Ok, yeah, billygoat an we'll play farm
I didn't mean to spirit stiff you
Nor to do you no harm
You say you got a bone to pick, well
There's plenty showin' on me
Come on up, yeah, bring your temper boy
We'll see, we'll see

Yeah, you may be the one, come on, son
Bring your blade and your gun
And if I die by your hand
I've gotta home in Gloryland