listening to the story of an angry old man 
he had the whole world in his pocket but 
he had a hole there in his hand 
never had much trouble fitting into his surroundings 
dived headlong into life 
and ended up by drowning 
died by drowning 
his blood is pure venom and his teeth are solid gold 
his clothes are made from human skin 
he's a thousand years old 
he lives down by the poisoned stream 
where only alligators swim 
sits there drinking moonshine 
playing a mean violin a mean violin 
a really wicked violin 

you've got four lines on your forehead 
and that tells me that you're worried 
don't shoot my dog 
don't shoot my dog 
i said please don't shoot my dog 

his wife is laying face down in the pool upon the porch 
he spied me through his blindness 
as i spied her with my torch 
his skin goes tight around his face 
as he smiles his blinding smile 
points over to a dozen wives laying in a pile 
laying in a pile pile high