16 Shells From A 30.6

Plugged sixteen shells from a thirty-ought-six And the Black Crow snuck through a hole in the sky So I spent all my buttons on an old pack mule And I made me a ladder from a pawnshop marimba And I leaned up against a dandelion tree Leaned up against a dandelion tree Leaned up against a dandelion tree I'm gonna cook them feathers on a tiny spit And I filled me a sachel full of old pig corn And I beat me a billy from an old French horn And I kicked that mule to the top of the tree Kicked that mule to the top of the tree Blew me a hole 'bout the size of a kickdrum And I cut me a switch from a long branch elbow I'm gonna whittle you into kindlin' Black Crow, sixteen shells from a thirty-ought-six Whittle you into kindlin' Black Crow sixteen shells from a thirty-ought-six Well, I slept in the holler of a dry creek bed And I tore out the buckets from a red Corvette Tore out the buckets from a red Corvette Lionel and Dave and the Butcher made three Well, you got to meet me by the knuckles of the skinnybone tree With the strings of a Washburn stretched like a clothesline Oh, you know me and that mule scrambled right through the hole Me and that mule scrambled right through the hole I'm gonna whittle you into kindlin' Black Crow, sixteen shells from a thirty-ought-six Whittle you into kindlin' Black Crow sixteen shells from a thirty-ought-six Now I hold him prisoner in a Washburn jail That I strapped on the back of my old kick mule Strapped him on the back of my old kick mule Bang on the strings just to drive him crazy Oh, I strum it loud to rattle his cage Strum it loud just to rattle his cage Strum it loud just to rattle his cage Strum it loud just to rattle his cage Oh, I'm gonna whittle you into kindlin' Black Crow, sixteen shells from a thirty-ought-six Whittle you into kindlin' Black Crow sixteen shells from a thirty-ought-six --- 16 Shells From A 30.6 - Tom Waits