Tekster:
Primus Tales From The Punchbowl

space The air was thick and warm He drops the coins in one by one The scene unfolds before him He stands looking eye to thigh As she looks down from

[instrumental]

In the year of our Lord Call it 1994 A fine vintage of mimicry There are those that take their sound From someone else's Toil Liking to parrots you see

Wynona's got herself a big brown beaver and she shows it off to all her friends. One day, you know, that beaver tried to leave her, So she caged him up

Del Davis sold a Christmas tree Stood up to 8 feet tall Season was lookin' mighty thin He'd hoped to sell 'em all Here he comes with a dollar in his hand

Oh I can still remember Jenny Hernando She was my little lovely one When I was seventeen. I remember the day that she Gave me her viriginity And then

space The air was thick and warm He drops the coins in one by one The scene unfolds before him He stands looking eye to thigh As she looks down from

They headed southward from San Francisco, To be with Chuckles and the others. With electric in the air and peroxide in their hair, They looked like golden

was year or two younger And he really thought he was something. He liked to harass other children Or anyone he found outnumbered. Alone Don walks from