I plugged 16 shells from a thirty-ought-six And a 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 pawn shop marimba And I leaned it up against A dandelion tree
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 And I blew me a hole 'bout the size of a kickdrum And I cut me a switch From a long branch elbow
Chorus I'm gonna whittle you into kindlin' Black crow 16 shells from a thirty-ought-six Whittle you into kindlin' Black crow 16 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 You got to meet me by the knuckles of the skinnybone tree With the strings of a washburn Stretched like a clothes line You know me and that mule scrambled right through the hole
Repeat chorus
Now I hold him prisoner In a washburn jail That stapped on the back Of my old kick mule Strapped it on the back of my old kick mule I bang on the strings just To drive him crazy I strum it loud just to rattle his cage Strum it loud just to rattle his cage
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