I heard Johnny Cash's house burnt down.
Damn that Kris Kristopherin.
Damn, that boy that pees in his bed!
I "heard" Johnny Cash's house burnt down.
Damn that boy that plays with fire. Damn.
Burn, burn, old black coal.
Oh "empire of dust". Oh funeral pyre.
I heard Johnny Cash's house burnt down.
And I ain't feelin' s'good.
Damn that funeral pyre.
Damn, that empire of dust.
Damn, that haven of the country poet.
Outlaw, outlaw, where is thy bread?
I heard Johnny Cash's house burnt down.
Marshmella, Marshmella, skin black as coal.
But how white underneath. How sugary sweet! Gooey old roll.
Black teeth, black teeth, rot outta my head!
Better part of me's done left fer' dead.
I heard Johnny Cash's house burnt down.
Danged ol' wooden teeth.
Danged, ol' sugary sweets.
Danged old nasty, ganky...hippie's feet.
Write on, write on, poet hippie, country freak!
I heard Johnny Cash's house done burned to the ground.
Danged that Kris. Danged them outlaws. Danged, them black and tarry, ganky hippie feet.
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1 comment:
Well now, I'm over at the Precipice lobbing molotov cocktails while you're over here at Sterqui doing a hatchet job on Krispy Kristöffërsön. T'aint right, I tells ya!
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