Mud, leaves, roofing rot
|
Black tar tires are all that I got
|
So how can I have made
|
This rubber duchess in her rich brokade
|
Black dress, seven rips
|
Kissing coals, her burnout lips
|
Ask old Bruo, who salts the snails
|
She's sticky sweet, hard as...
|
Asphalt in winter
|
|
Tarbaby
|
|
His days are plain
|
But his dreams are gaudy
|
Rhinestone kisses on a
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Backside nagahyde body
|
Propped in the rotten weeds
|
One whiff of at her and he was incomplete
|
She and I we had plans
|
Kicking cows and shooting cans
|
I know you were with her cause
|
I saw her stuck all over your hands
|
|
Tarbaby tarbaby
|
|
Clouds cry on a roof of tin
|
Like an ace high, I brave the din
|
I know you were with her
|
Cause I saw her stuck all over your chin
|
Like I said, we had plans, she and I
|
High as a rod on the fourth of July
|
She was gaping at me like an earthquake crack
|
As you took her away on your dirty old back
|
|
"she stuck by my side
|
Seemed to enjoy the ride
|
I threw her in the bayou
|
For she would not be my bride"
|
Tarbaby tarbaby born again born again...
|
|
-----------------
|
Tarbaby
|
| Noe Venable |
