Текст песни 16 Shells From A 30.6 - 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
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
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
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
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
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