16 shells from a 30.6

I plugged 16 shells from a thirthy-ought-six
and the Black Crow snuck thought
a hole in the sky
so I spent all my buttons on an
old pack mule
and I made me a ladder from
a pawn shop marimba
and I learned it up against
a dandelion tree

And filled me a sachel
full of old pig corn
and I beat me a billy
from an old French horn
and I kicked the mule
to the top of the tree
and I blew me a hole
'bout the size of a kickdrum
and I cut me a switch
from a long branch elbow

  Chorus:

I'm gonna whittle you into kindlin'
Black Crow 16 shells from a thirthy-ought-six
whittle you into  kindlin'
Black Crow 16 shells from a thirthy-ought-six

Well I slept in the holler
of a dry creek bed
and I tore out the buckets
from a red Corvette, tore out the buckets from
  a red Corvette

Lionel and Dave and the Butcher made three
you got to meet me by the kunckles of the skinnybone
  tree
with the strings of a Washburn
streched like a clothes line
you know me and that mule scrambled right thought
  the hole

Repeat Chorus

Now I hold him prisioner
in a Washburn jail
that strapped on the back
of my old kick mule
strapped it on the back of my old kick mule
I bang on the strings just
to drive him crazy
I strum it loud just to rattle his cage
strum it loud just to rattle his cage

Repeat Chorus