The gravel galavants on the verdict

Of the swine that was fed human remains

It was a murder's victims

somewhere north of the canadian border



They ended up in your lunch break

In which you may want to hold your breath

'Til the dream sequence is for this one

New rural ruins or street fed a postmodern pigeons



These pigs were fed

These pigs were ready to be sold

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 'til 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, a sharp hand

Through fingers cracked from stress and cold

Daddy fed the herd grain

Then drank as much of the same



These pigs were fed

These pigs were ready to be sold

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



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 by the last reflection



I will not be there, not yet

I will not be there, not yet

I will not be there, not yet

I will not be there, not yet



I will not be there, not yet

I will not be there, not yet

I will not be there, not yet

I will not be there, not yet



I will not be there, not yet

I will not be there, not yet

I will not be there, not yet

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