Greasy Creek

Where Jesus Christ is the Dixiejew
(He inched along like a creature too)
Cometrees grow out the stinkin’ ditch
And the bloody-shins soak off the rickety bridge
Floor-joists creek like the hinges of Hell
And the head-count’s high down the waterless well
The foetal’s met the fatal just a time or two
And the writin’s wroten rotten on a plank of wood

What was spoken light will be tested at night
Where the White Thang sings, the state bird bites
While you’re diggin’ up tiny extra rows of teeth
Behold this fascist Killmachine