(originally by Tom Waits) Plugged 16 shells from a thirty-aught-six And the black crow flew through A hole in the sky And I spent all my buttons on an old pack mule And I made me a ladder ftom a pawn shop marimba And I leaned it up against a dandelion tree Leaned it up against a dandelion tree Leaned it up against a dandelion tree Well I cooked them feathers on the iron spit And I filled me a sachel full of old pig corn And I beat me a Billy from an old french horn And kicked that mule to the top of the tree Kicked that mule to the top of the tree Blew me a hole 'bout the size of a kickdrum And I cut me a switch from a long branch elbow I'm gonna whittle you into kindlin' Black crow 16 shells from a thirty-aught-six Whittle you into kindlin' Black crow 16 shells from a thirty-aught-six Well I slept in the hotter of a dry creek bed And I tore out the buckets from a red corvette Tore out the buckets from a red corvette Lionel, Dave and the butcher made three You got to meet me by the knuckles of the skinny bone tree With the strings of a washburn Stretched like a clothesline You know me and that mule scrambled right through the hole Me and that mule scrambled right through the hole I'm gonna whittle you into kindlin' Black crow 16 shells ftom a thirty-aught-six Whittle you into kindlin' Black crow 16 shells from a thirty-aught-six Now I hold him prisoner in a washburn jail And I strapped it on the back of my old kick mule Strapped it on the back of my old kick mule Bang on the strings just to drive him crazy And I strum it toud just to rattle his cage Strum it loud just to rattle his cage Strum it loud just to rattle his cage Strum it loud just to rattle his cage I'm gonna whittle you into kindlin' Black crow 16 shells from a thirty-aught-six Whittle you into kindlin' Black crow 16 shells from a thirty-aught-six
(originally by Tom Waits) Plugged 16 shells from a thirty-aught-six And the black crow flew through A hole in the sky And I spent all my buttons on an old pack mule And I made me a ladder ftom a pawn shop marimba And I leaned it up against a dandelion tree Leaned it up against a dandelion tree Leaned it up against a dandelion tree Well I cooked them feathers on the iron spit And I filled me a sachel full of old pig corn And I beat me a Billy from an old french horn And kicked that mule to the top of the tree Kicked that mule to the top of the tree Blew me a hole 'bout the size of a kickdrum And I cut me a switch from a long branch elbow I'm gonna whittle you into kindlin' Black crow 16 shells from a thirty-aught-six Whittle you into kindlin' Black crow 16 shells from a thirty-aught-six Well I slept in the hotter of a dry creek bed And I tore out the buckets from a red corvette Tore out the buckets from a red corvette Lionel, Dave and the butcher made three You got to meet me by the knuckles of the skinny bone tree With the strings of a washburn Stretched like a clothesline You know me and that mule scrambled right through the hole Me and that mule scrambled right through the hole I'm gonna whittle you into kindlin' Black crow 16 shells ftom a thirty-aught-six Whittle you into kindlin' Black crow 16 shells from a thirty-aught-six Now I hold him prisoner in a washburn jail And I strapped it on the back of my old kick mule Strapped it on the back of my old kick mule Bang on the strings just to drive him crazy And I strum it toud just to rattle his cage Strum it loud just to rattle his cage Strum it loud just to rattle his cage Strum it loud just to rattle his cage I'm gonna whittle you into kindlin' Black crow 16 shells from a thirty-aught-six Whittle you into kindlin' Black crow 16 shells from a thirty-aught-six
