Summer ’95, south st. county line, junior drinkin’ rye, smoking camel lites, heard them sirens blowin too close home but for fear a getting caught stayed on his own

Daddy had an hour into bottle two, mama’s sore throat fresh as her black eye bruise, daddy had a penchant for whores & booze

Mama knew too well, so what she got to lose

So daddy rose up & grabbed his boots

Said I’m headin down to that manor saloon

Mama said nothing, no choice to choose

Twas either his right hand or them whores & booze, oooh – mama no choice to choose

Well bout 3am, daddy rolled in, one bottle in hand & stink of cheap perfume, mama stayed up to his surprise smokin’ all his weed & drink his whiskey wine, daddy punch drunk rose a wild eye, said I tell you woman gonna fix you right, but daddy hadn’t noticed he had left his gun, mama rose it up & let the lead undone, oh – mama let the lead undone

Well the coroner said the first just grazed, twas the second shot right thru his face, daddy’s nerves fire as he jigged on the floor, mama shot a third good measure no more

Junior came home to a public display, daddy’s blood spatter on mama’s face

Junior had a bottle of that whiskey rye

Stowed away in his coat to his own demise