She dragged his body down the stairs
one last shove
pushed him right in
to the hog pen
watched as the hogs
dug right in
she took a rake in the morning
pulled his clothing back out
burned it in the yard
then she got the hell out
took the truck and the shotgun
his money and dog
put the pedal to the floor
drove until dark
never looked in the rearview
he had a mean black heart
seems like killing
isn't always a sin
sometimes it feels so good
you want to do it again
yeah it feels so good
you want to do it again
I've been working for a few months on a project of songs one of my pals calls Swamp Noir, this is one that popped out the other day.
Hopefully the three or four of us can get this stuff into cd form before we're dead. Or before we get too wrapped up in the joy of warm weather bike rides.
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