The gavel galavants on the verdict of the swine that was fed human remains
It was a murderer's victims somewhere north of the Canadian border
They ended up in your lunch break in which
"You may want to hold your breath till the dream sequence is for this one"
New rural ruins or street fed for postmodern pigeons
These pigs were fed, these pigs were ready to be sold
Once had but now widowed, his companion had a chance to pop one out before her body gave in
A bouncing baby gal, beautiful in posture
She grew up with the cows till the cows left town
Daddy brought home the bacon
The bacon was in the backyard, baby
Daddy left the ranch cause daddy had a sharp hand
Though fingers cracked from stress and cold, daddy fed the herd grain
Then draunk as much of the same
These pigs were fed
These pigs were ready to be sold
Take your pigs hoof and follow it to the city
Take this chance and go to the city
Daddy's baby girl
Daddy's little wanderer
Let's go out and get jobs
Let's go out and be all grown up
The city is hiding underneath your bed
The monster in your closet is eight weeks away
You've got to saddle up now
Daddy's baby girl is all grown up
Precious
But you will not be there when she coughs up your family line
You will be the furthest thing from her mind
A grey ghost
A black cowboy will be the last reflection
I will not be there, not yet
I'm running out of time
I'm sorry I forgot
It's not my fault
Greetings from the great north woods