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Lyrics for '16 Shells From A Thirty Ought Six' by 'Tom Waits'
I Plugged 16 Shells From A Thirty-ought-six
And A Black Crow Snuck Through
A Hole In The Sky
So I Spent All My Buttons On An
Old Pack Mule
And I Made Me A Ladder From
A Pawn Shop Marimba
And I Leaned It Up Against
A Dandelion Tree
And I Filled Me A Sachel
Full Of Old Pig Corn
And I Beat Me A Billy
From An Old French Horn
And I Kicked That Mule
To The Top Of The Tree
And I Blew Me A Hole
'bout The Size Of A Kickdrum
And I Cut Me A Switch
From A Long Branch Elbow
Chorus
I'm Gonna Whittle You Into Kindlin'
Black Crow 16 Shells From A Thirty-ought-six
Whittle You Into Kindlin'
Black Crow 16 Shells From A Thirty-ought-six
Well I Slept In The Holler
Of A Dry Creek Bed
And I Tore Out The Buckets
From A Red Corvette, Tore Out The Buckets From A Red Corvette
Lionel And Dave And The Butcher Made Three
You Got To Meet Me By The Knuckles Of The Skinnybone Tree
With The Strings Of A Washburn
Stretched Like A Clothes Line
You Know Me And That Mule Scrambled Right Through The Hole
Repeat Chorus
Now I Hold Him Prisoner
In A Washburn Jail
That Stapped On The Back
Of My Old Kick Mule
Strapped It On The Back Of My Old Kick Mule
I Bang On The Strings Just
To Drive Him Crazy
I Strum It Loud Just To Rattle His Cage
Strum It Loud Just To Rattle His Cage
Repeat Chorus
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