The Buck Owen's Buckaroos

The Buck Owen's Buckaroos - A-11

Dead shot through the temple

In the temple heard the preacher screech

I bored you full of holes Lucretia

Saw you crease up in a ball

As if you swallowed your own poison

Followed as you crawled up to the altar

I watched the tabernacle choir

Bawling in a bath of sacramental wine

You laced it but it tastes just fine to me

Yes '89's a good year

Let's hear it now for bittersweet

Let's hear it now for good old '89

Let's hear it now for good old '89

We took our seats

We watched them stringing up a chicken

Kept on kicking

As they kicked away the chair

They fed it strychnine

We kept on staring sickened sordid

As you pulled another bullet

From my belt and fired

Count to nine

Count to nine

Count to nine

I caught it in my teeth

I licked it clean

I chewed it

I chewed it struck a match

I flew a dozen stories to my stool behind a widow

Sure I'm small but big enough

But I'm big enough to send a bullet through your head

A bullet through the center of your head

I'll send a bullet through the center of your head

Center bullet

Rent a bullet

A bullet through the center of your head

A bullet through the center of your head

Center bullet

Rent a bullet

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