I've grown tired, of the words of the single man
   hangin' lifeless on his every word -- o man
   you don't understand dear man
   the little angel held out her hand
   sayin' father, father i love you
   o praise jesus i got her
  
   ok yeah billygoat an we'll play farm
   i didn't mean to spirit stiff you
   nor to doy you no harm
   you say you've got a bone to pick
   well, there's plenty showin' on me
   come on up yeah bring your temper boy
   we'll see, we'll see
  
   yeah you may be the only one come on son
   bring your blade and your gun
   and if i die by your hand
   i've gotta home in glory land
   Red Neck Reel