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Six Merry Men

de American Murder Song

We're six merry men at the old whiskey shed
Swinging wild on our feet, blind and high as a fife
'Round, 'round the barrel 'til its belly is bled
And every man's pissing fire and howling for life

One for the glut, one for the Lord
One for the elk on the balcony board
Hold the man flat, wall up the door
Every man takes a turn

We're six merry men at the old whiskey shed
Swinging wild on our feet, blind and high as a fife
'Round, 'round the barrel 'til its belly is bled
And every man's pissing fire and howling for life

Stuck to the floorboards with teeth in his hair
And a cleft arm splashing in the pool by his hip
As crazy boy Levi, as mad as a mare
Wipes his good blade twice upon the sweat on his lip
Stomping our prayer, Indian-eyed
Half way to Concord and fit to be tied
Knives in the roof, guts in the rye
Every man takes a turn

We're six merry men at the old whiskey shed
Swinging wild on our feet, blind and high as a fife
'Round, 'round the barrel 'til its belly is bled
And every man's pissing fire and howling for life

Hissing and screams spilling out of his side
Where his hands turn to plug at the holes in his vest
Tall Dan's gone mute, boys, as shy as a bride
Drink up, man, and wet your thirsty boots in his chest
Twitching in tongues, breaking on chairs
One fouls the rug, one crawls the stairs
Hung by the bar, Madison cheers
Every man takes a turn

We're six merry men at the old whiskey shed
Swinging wild on our feet, blind and high as a fife
'Round, 'round the barrel 'til its belly is bled
And every man's pissing fire and howling for life

One of us pants, one of us weeps
Line up the shots and four days 'til sleep
Soaking in blood, pale as a sheet
It's good to be alive

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