| Lyrics |
Well he came home from the war
With a party in his head
And modified brougham deville
And a pair of legs that opened up
Like butterfly wings
And a mad dog that wouldn't
Sit still
He went and took up with a salvation army
Band girl
Who played dirty water
On a swordfishtrombone
He went to sleep at the bottom of
Tenkiller lake
And he said "gee, but it's
Great to be home."
Well he came home from the war
With a party in his head
And an idea for a fireworks display
And he knew that he'd be ready with
A stainless steel machete
And a half a pint of ballentine's
Each day
And he holed up in room above a hardware store
Cryin' nothing there but hollywood tears
And he put a spell on some
Poor little crutchfield girl
And stayed like that for 27 years
Well he packed up all his
Expectations he lit out for california
With a flyswatter banjo on his knee
With a lucky tiger in his angel hair
And benzedrine for getting there
They found him in a eucalyptus tree
Lieutenant got him a canary bird
And shaked her head with every word
And chesterfielded moonbeams in a song
And he got 20 years for lovin' her
From some oklahoma governor
Said everything this doughboy
Does is wrong
Now some say he's doing
The obituary mambo
And some say he's hanging on the wall
Perhaps this yarn's the only thing
That holds this man together
Some say he was never here at all
Some say they saw him down in
Birmingham, sleeping in a
Boxcar going by
And if you think that you can tell a bigger tale
I swear to god you'd have to tell a lie...
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