Horse Head

come to my house an we`ll pick bones there hands outside ready with stones come to my yard i got whiskey an chirs we`ll sit on the porch as the good men stare you ain`t never spoke true i shake an angry fist at you you are not needed here to help me feel low down i`m doin` it fine all on my own i her you cryin` from cradle to coffin an for you there`ll be no stoppin` i see you lyin` in a pine box with bitter words that`s how the boy talks