Gun-totin', Chronic-smokin' Hearse Initiator (ludickid) wrote,
Gun-totin', Chronic-smokin' Hearse Initiator

Folkutations, 2

Rye whiskey, rye whiskey, why don’t you come ‘round?
I’m dry as a desert and achin’ to drown

Jack of diamonds, jack of diamonds, I known you of old
You robbed my poor pockets of silver and gold

I once was a rich man of fortune and fame
But now I’m so stone than I’m sellin’ my name

I’m a rambler, I’m a gambler, I’m the devil’s own son
I walk by the roadside and live by the gun

Cold meat when I’m hungry and beer when I’m dry
If drinkin’ don’t kill me, I’ll live ‘til I die

Rye whisky took my father back in ‘63
God damn you, rye whiskey, you’re comin’ for me

If Haines Pond was whiskey and I was a duck
I’d dive down for good and I’d not give a fuck

But water ain’t whiskey and I ain’t no duck
So I count my pennies and curse my bad luck

My mama, she begged me from drink to refrain
But nothing could keep me from riding that train

Come give me a kiss and a promise to keep
I’ll spin you around and then sing you to sleep

We’ll dance while I’m livin’, you’ll mourn when I die
And place on my grave one last bottle of rye

Rye whiskey, you villain, you’ve been my downfall
You kick me and stone me but I love you for all

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