I've grown tired, of the words of the single man
Hanging lifeless on his every word, oh man
You don't understand dear man
The little angel held out her hand
Saying father, father I love you
Oh praise Jesus, I got you

Ok yeah billygoat
An' we'll play farm
I didn't mean to spirit stiff you
Nor to do you no harm
You say you've got a bone to pick
Well, there's plenty showing on me
Come on up, yeah
An' bring your temper boy
We'll see, we'll see

Yeah you may be the only one come on son
Bring your blade and your gun
And if I die by your hand
I've got a home in glory land