Wash your brains, get em clean It's a quarter of a mile to the dirty stream, Where you can pull your hair, you can pull your teeth, If you're underneath the water, you can fall asleep And when you get to the stream, Better bring your flask Oh it's almost gone Better get there fast Gotta get your fill, gotta have your fun, Gotta take your sips, die good and young Better get to running if there's blood inside your swimming hole Sew your lips together if they're asking where your women go Showing up without their clothes, shaking in their broken bones