Roger Clyne & The Peacemakers
Bury My Heart At The Trailer Park
I´m Hell on wheels and women and horses
Got me a string of lame nags and a few divorces
I keep my eyes peeled wide to see
The next future ex-Mrs. me...
If I´m a poor, poor devil
I´m a lucky, lucky dog
If I´m a low, low life I´m livin´ high on the hog
Got me a jackrabbit grillin´ on a duraflame log
Check out my ice chest chillin´ down my homebrewed grog...
Well I was born in a feedlot, raised in a strip mall
Cut my teeth on a mason jar
I was kickin´ beer cans before I could crawl
On my first run around the sun I was shootin´ straight and I was walkin´ tall
So when I finally burn down from a torch to a spark
When I finally snuff out and the lights go dark
And I find I´m resigned to admit that my bite ain´t as bad as my bark
No more..
Won´tcha bury my heart at the trailer park...
Well I know how to set this rambler´s heart to heal
I´ll turn the spice channel on in the fifth wheel
And crack a fresh screwtop bottle of wine
And I´ll be feelin´ no pain in no time...
Well I was born in a feedlot, raised in a strip mall
Cut my teeth on a mason jar
I was kickin´ beer cans before I could crawl
On my first run around the sun I was shootin´ straight and I was walkin´ tall
I learned to hate from a strip mine, love from a strip bar
Honesty and charity I stole 'em from a tip jar
The lust for the dust and the grease n´ grit n´ mud is runnin´ in my blood
So when I finally burn down and the lights go dark
When I finally snuff out from a torch to a spark
And I find I´m resigned to admit that my bite ain´t as bad as my bark
No more...
Momma bury my heart at the trailer park!