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lyrics

Well, she came back home and found me dead
At least that's what the paper said
'Course, it ain't like I could tell it my way
Hell, I don't even know where you go
To get cyanide in New Mexico
Babette, you are a clever little lady

I met her when I used to work
On weekends up in Albuquerque
She was just a coed from overseas
And I never studied art the way
Them queers all do in Santa Fe
But Babette, I know perfection when I see it

And you might suggest and I might agree
That she was way too good for me
And why the hell'd she marry such a man
Could be she thought Americans
Are all Cary Grants and Errol Flynns
Folks got some weird ideas about this land

Now don't cry, Princess, I forgive you
I'll go run right up to heaven and plead your case
I ain't the choicest guy to live with, God knows
But tomorrow's gonna be a better place

Well, my funeral came, I saw her weep
And hell, you know that's kinda sweet
I mean, that's how you know they really care
They laid my flesh in Chamberine
It ain't bright, but hell, it's clean
And this may be the best I've dressed since we were married

It's hard to make a marriage work
Some days are bright, some days are dark
Some days they just wake up and hate your face
I was probably just a redneck clown
Folks probably think you married down
But what the hell, I love you when you're crazy

Now don't cry, princess, I forgive you
I'll go run right up to heaven and plead your case
I ain't the choicest guy to live with, God knows
But tomorrow's gonna be a better place

credits

from No Moon, released November 4, 2015

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The Blood Feud Family Singers Phoenix, Arizona

Up-tempo down-hearted poetic-philosophic country-fried hostility for sentimental haters.


A rollicking bad time.

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