Don't Shoot My Dog

Listening to the story of an angry old man

He had the whole world in his pocket but

He had a hole there in his hand

Never had much trouble fitting into his surroundings

Dived headlong into life

And ended up by drowning

Died by drowning

His blood is pure venom and his teeth are solid gold

His clothes are made from human skin

He's a thousand years old

He lives down by the poisoned stream

Where only alligators swim

Sits there drinking moonshine

Playing a mean violin a mean violin

A really wicked violin

You've got four lines on your forehead

And that tells me that you're worried

Don't shoot my dog

Don't shoot my dog

I said please don't shoot my dog

His wife is laying face down in the pool upon the porch

He spied me through his blindness

As I spied her with my torch

His skin goes tight around his face

As he smiles his blinding smile

Points over to a dozen wives laying in a pile

Laying in a pile pile high