The stowaways of civil war When living through a civil war "God bless our little civil war" Progress rides with thieves and whores I don't know you to wear a hat But I came home late and there it sat You rose to show what hats are for Christmas mornings

Whoo-ee, ride me high Tomorrow's the day My bride's gonna come Oh, oh, are we gonna fly Down in the easy chair You ain't goin' nowhere Clouds so swift Rain won't lift Gate won't close

Gal dem a sigh Yuh waan a man to point yuh heals to di sky Run outta breath and break sweat through di night Yuh waan a man fi mek yuh mek whole heap a noise Bite yuh lip and roll up yuh eyes Grit yuh teeth 'cau yuh pleased wid di size Gal, put up yuh

Always up for the ride Junkies of the genocide Respect through fear Walkin' tall Beyond unreal Intimidation, degradation, loomin' large, desecration Loaded, stormin' out of control Fired up, hell ridin' we roll Drinkin' from the well of the damned

Ooo, ooo the Taliban, baby But you know someday soon we're both gonna saddle up and it'll be Ride camel, ride My ol' lady she'll be here with me Just smilin' ride by my side We should do just fine out around Palestine Or maybe Turkministan I'm just a

'Cause young love don't know nothin' When the radio plays you sing along And you'd slide on over, on over and we'd ride When she's holding on You just can't get close enough, you swear it's sent from above Your daddy thought I was wrong for you, Thinking

And it wouldn't cost me a dime You'll know it's me when I come through your town I'm gonna ride around in style I'm gonna drive everybody wild 'Cause I'll have the only one there is around. Well, I left Kentucky back in forty nine An' went to Detroit

How bout it baby (Let me show you what's up, Show you backwoods crazy) Yeah you make me (wanna take you for a ride And then just maybe) We can sip on the wine Rock and Roll all night Get ya off deep in these Florida pines

I fly overseas Grind for the cheese I grind for the paper I ride for my team And anywhere I go I roll up the weed She rollin' with me Because I'm a king Bitch I'm a king

This is the last cowboy song The end of a hundred year Waltz The voices sound sad as they're singin' along Another piece of America's lost He rides the feed lots, clerks in the markets On weekends sellin' tobacco and beer And his dreams of tomorrow,