Текст песни Tom Waits - 16 Shells from a ThirtyOughtSix
Tom Waits - 16 Shells from a ThirtyOughtSix слова песни
I plugged 16 shells from a thirty-ought-sixAnd a black crow snuck throughA hole in the skySo I spent all my buttons on anOld pack muleAnd I made me a ladder fromA pawn shop marimbaAnd I leaned it up againstA dandelion treeAnd I filled me a sachelFull of old pig cornAnd I beat me a billyFrom an old french hornAnd I kicked that muleTo the top of the treeAnd I blew me a holebout the size of a kickdrumAnd I cut me a switchFrom a long branch elbowChorusIm gonna whittle you into kindlinBlack crow 16 shells from a thirty-ought-sixWhittle you into kindlinBlack crow 16 shells from a thirty-ought-sixWell I slept in the hollerOf a dry creek bedAnd I tore out the bucketsFrom a red corvette, tore out the buckets from a red corvetteLionel and dave and the butcher made threeYou got to meet me by the knuckles of the skinnybone treeWith the strings of a washburnStretched like a clothes lineYou know me and that mule scrambled right through the holeRepeat chorusNow I hold him prisonerIn a washburn jailThat stapped on the backOf my old kick muleStrapped it on the back of my old kick muleI bang on the strings justTo drive him crazyI strum it loud just to rattle his cageStrum it loud just to rattle his cageRepeat chorus