Horse Head

Come to my house and we'll pick bones Their hands outside ready with stones Come to my yard I got whiskey and chairs We’ll sit on the porch As the good men stare You ain't never spoke true I shake an angry fist at you You are not needed here To help me feel low down I’m doing it fine all on my own I hear you crying from cradle to coffin And for you there'll be no stopping I see you lying in a pine box with bitter words That’s how the boy talks