Summary
[ Content Index | Lyrics ]
This little number is a collection of old expressions, strung together into some kind of strange song.
Content Type: Lyrics
Content Created: Spring of 1994
This work is licensed under a Creative Commons License.
My baby's gone, I'm alone in a one horse town
She left behind an iron line she'd run through the ground.
Her words were fast and loose, had my head in a noose
She had her fiddle in a groove
And if I'd turned the table, if I'd turned the tide
It was by the skin of my tooth
This time I belled the cat, upset the fish, and buried an axe
But she's no real McCoy, she's tried that ploy, it's my turn to fight back
I'll take my time by the forelock in my fine Italian hand
Her jig is up
And if I succeed and make her plead
I guess that's just my greasy luck
Every man with an elbow has a his own grease
Coat the squeaks and in a few weeks you'll have some greasy luck.