Whip-poor-will

Whip-poor-will / Words and Music by Malcolm Lucard

Body in the river, hole never dug

hole in my leg, covered with mud

Close my eyes, hear that trill

If the sheriff don’t get me then the moccasins will

Goddam fool, had it good

Girl in the city, shack in the woods

He cooked the corn, she cooked the books

I mopped the floors, whatever it took

I always kinda figured they’d get us all killed

Bucket full of catfish, slit through the gills Whip-poor-will

Sweetest voice, I ever did hear

Sang from her heart, sang for the beer

He worked the bar, never took a sip

She brought the crowds, he took the tips

Dead of the night, I hear her still

Same sweet voice, same sweet thrill Whip-poor-will

Down on the banks took a little walk

Guess it was time we had a little talk

Single shot, echoes in the hills

Never could sing, now he never will

Tired old song, fits like a glove

Crazy m-----f---- kills the girl he loves

She sang the tune, this time around

dumb m---- f---- dead on the ground

But who’s gonna listen to a bird in the pines?

Dude had it coming but the bullet wasn't mine, whip-poor-will

She flew south over the hills

He floated down to the pond by the mill

Left me there, all bloody and sick

Guess she knew I’d never would flip

But now it comes time to pay that bill

Love that woman, love her still

My throat is dry, soaked to the bone

Moon on the hill, cold as stone

Never did think I’d live to be old

Never did think I’d die of cold

Just one round from a five-round clip

Last thing he heard: ‘Keep the tip’ .. Whip-poor-will … Whip-poor-will …