King of the plaid delta
his post modern blues will belt ya
into next week, one down ten to go
and when he rolls in this town will blow
such a tragic sense of fashion
A rude reminder to the feel good faction
His sombrero ringed with human teeth
blood of a badger his aperitif
Riding a hog that runs on neon
Charged with an ozone-killing blast of freon
how could he turn his back on all we know
feel that cold air blast you by he goes
the banjo cross his back is strung with gut
his bandoliers are loaded watch him strut
his draw’s fastest but he never kills
he’s only concerned with acts of wills
anarchy is the state of man
try to tack an -ist on and I’ll tip the pan
and dump your ass right back into the fire
I didn’t make this shit up I didn’t string that wire
I just waited on that clapboard porch
my God I sweated in the rude sun scorch
waiting for the Delta King the Blue crossed Plaid
he ain’t no villain but the shit is bad
What is the song of the day?
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