Lyrics
Gonna build myself a mountain cabin home.
Where, the sky is just a bluer shade of blue.
I got everything required, for the body, soul and mind.
I got water, grub and crossword puzzles too.
Don't call me 'cause I ain't got no bones.
Find some else to pick your little bones.
'f I got mail you can return it, just go ahead and burn it.
You can read it when you're cold and all alone.
Lumpy, Beanpole & Dirt,
Don't get your feelings hurt.
Buy me some wine, & some good ol' turpentine,
And have yourself a healthy little squirt.
The mountains can fall down into the sea.
The sea can turn itself to cherry wine,
And when Satan's up in heaven, shouting seven come eleven.
I'll be back to hear you whine your little whine.
Lumpy, Beanpole & Dirt,
Don't you get your feelings hurt.
Buy me some wine, & some good ol' turpentine,
And give yourself a healthy little squirt.
Gonna build myself a mountain cabin home.
Where, the sky is just a bluer shade of blue.
I got everything required, for the body, soul and mind.
I got water, grub and crossword puzzles too.
Lumpy, Beanpole & Dirt,
Don't get your feelings hurt.
Buy me some wine, & some good ol' turpentine,
And get yourself a healthy little squirt.
