Lyrics:
And Papa, you laugh when I say, "Move it up here, Dragline" Oh, Dragline Uh, uh, uh
booms in Dragline out the pink and steamin' skin Bulldoze you into the ditch Inter you without a hitch at Camp Beech Grove Camp Beech Grove, Camp Beech
has gone To rest at last It hurts my brain Your funeral light And through the dragline They all arrive
'til quitting time I think I'd like to die Sitting on this old dragline Just roll me down the hole when it's my time Maybe someday, bless my soul When my
the damage through In this funeral procession So ripe for the picking Choking on draglines With my teeth I'm sinking Hammerhead busting loose Left for dead
To give birth to a twenty-two-pound porcupine (CHORUS) Delerium tremens Mexican dragline Fetid aspic of muck Frances B Gross Jelly cadavers Meets
Little green men coming out of paint cans, Phosphate mines and Slaked Lime, 1966, he was sixteen, It's Central Florida in the era of the dragline
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