“You Bring out the Hamster in Me” (2017) lyrics

Cornfed Bluegrass Man

Well, I make me a trip each and every single year
though quite a many tell me I’m insane
I pitch a tent before it’s dark along the fence at old Felt’s Park
knee deep in mud or in the sun or in the rain

From far and wide friends gather ‘round
pickin’ grinnin’ ‘neath the Galax moon
It’s a run-a-muck scene. No it’ ain’t pristine
But it always seems to end too soon

Hey, Lordy Lordy. I’m a cornfed bluegrass man
I’m a hobo skunk in a pickup truck with a corndog in my hand
Lord, yes I am

Well, ole Mary Edna does some might fine cookin’
choppin’ stirrin’ yes the whole day through
All us pickers wind up crusty, but she helps to fill our tummies
with a heapin’ bowl of homemade stew

We descend upon her kitchen like a flock of hungry chickens
gobble gobble for that world class soup
It helps release the midnight juices in us seasoned bluegrass moose-s
wakes us up before we fly the coup.

Hey, Lordy Lordy. I’m a cornfed bluegrass man
I’m a hobo skunk in a pickup truck with a corndog in my hand
Lord, yes I am

This ole stage is fine and dandy, yellow tent so big and sandy
But I’d rather be out in the lanes
Skippy trip-y where it’s muddy with my good ole bluegrass buddies
‘fore the ribbons make it less about the playin’

Community is so essential in a flock of feral fiddles
banjo badgers, monkey mandolins
Out amongst the bullfrog basses, grizzly guitars, dobro snakes
You gotta work to unify your friends, until the end

Hey, Lordy Lordy. I’m a cornfed bluegrass man
I’m a hobo skunk in a pickup truck with a corndog in my hand
Lord, yes I am

 

Old Mule

I’ve been up and down this lonesome road
Pain and sorrow’s all I find, good Lord
Yes, I hang my head and cry

But this mule won’t work no more
No, this mule won’t work no more, good Lord
No, this mule won’t work no more

Some will promise you that their love is true
kiss your lips and tell you lies, good Lord
Then they leave you cyin’ behind

But this fool won’t hurt no more
No, this fool won’t hurt no more, good Lord
No, this fool won’t hurt no more

Violence rules the roost in this world of sin
They’re gonna try to rope us in, good Lord
But an old mule won’t give in

‘Cause their rules don’t work no more
No, their rules don’t work no more, good Lord
No, their rules don’t work no more

I believe in love loved honestly
for to sanctify my soul, good Lord
and to help me carry on

‘Cause their rules won’t work no more
No, this fool won’t hurt no more, good Lord
No, this mule won’t work no more

 

Old Pat Turner

Old Mister Turner went to jail
Yes, Patrick went to jail
Nobody’d throw his bail
So, he sat there, and he hollered at the moon

Well, he used to pick real nice
before this life of stife
Now he’s a locked up tight
He’ll never see the light of liberty

Patrick went to jail
Mr. Turner’s up in jail
Nobody’d go his bail
So, he sat there, and he hollered at the moon