Lyrics Slingshot Professionals - Kelly Joe Phelps

Calculated entry in the class of circumspection
Reasoning, bargaining the last few drams of spirits
The serum of one's foolishness, oh, the truth be told in a cold pint head
16 ounces of pure warlord dripping down the side of the glass, hmm

Yeah, we are marching 'cross the family's' land the bagpipes and the drums
Oh, the skirts are flying high me boys, let's bust 'em in the shins
No matter nothing knowing, no, nothing owing save the garden say
Of a crooked hobbled garish man, oh, with sundown in his eyes, ah, in his eyes

Fifty year old walking stick worn through the lion's head
Carried proud like a saber on a limestone statuette
Oh, the littles can't decide which to lust for, which to desecrate
Imagination sits with the marbles in a drawer, oh whoa, oh-oh

A lot of slingshot song and dancing blasting out the lead paned windows
There're the wing whipped curtains sway this way like giant mockingbirds
Those damned lads and lasses have forgotten how to play
Hard pressed to find the one
Hard pressed to find the one who ever learned how to sing

Ay, ay, ay, mm
Slingshot
Slingshot
Slingshot