In the state of Colorado
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In the year of seventy-four
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They crossed the San Juan Mountains
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Growing hungry to the core.
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Their guide was Alferd Packer
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And they trusted him too long:
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For his character was weak
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And his appetite was strong.
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They called him a murderer, a cannibal, a thief;
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It just doesn't pay to eat anything but Government-inspected beef.
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Along the Gunnison River
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An Indian camp they spied.
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An Indian chief approached them,
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To stop them he did try.
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He warned them of the danger
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In the snow that lay around,
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But the danger was in Packer,
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For his hunger knew now bound.
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They called him a murderer, a cannibal, a thief;
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It just doesn't pay to eat anything but Government-inspected beef.
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Two cold months went slowly by;
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Packer came back alone.
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"My comrades they all froze to death,
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I'm starving," he did moan.
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The Indian chief knew how he lied,
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He spat upon the ground,
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For Packer's belly hung out all over his belt:
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He'd gained some thirty pounds.
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They called him a murderer, a cannibal, a thief;
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It just doesn't pay to eat anything but Government-inspected beef.
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Well for nine long years he ran away
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But finally he was tried.
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He claimed he didn't kill them,
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He only ate their hide.
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That County had six dem-o-crats
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Until that man arrived.
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Well only one lives on today:
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He ate the other five.
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They called him a murderer, a cannibal, a thief;
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It just doesn't pay to eat anything but Government-inspected beef.
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Eighteen years he stayed in jail,
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It was a dreadful fate,
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For he suffered indigestion
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Every time he ate.
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Still, it's hard to blame this hungry guy
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Who went searchin' for the mines,
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For when he ate his friends
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He'd never heard of Duncan Hines.
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-----------------
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The Ballad Of Alferd Packer
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| Phil Ochs |
