South of the old Potosi
East of the Toston Dam
West of Robber’s Roost
There’s a lay of land
You best believe there’s no governor
No, Sheriff runs this town
Well, Old Roy might lock you up
But he’ll turn you out if you buy the next round
And sweet sounds that you cannot place
Sounds that are stranger than a snowflake
Sweeter than a cornfed cow
Stronger than a steamboat
Faster than a big rig
Beat 'cha but you don’t know how
Oh those sounds have a stranger’s face
There’s a guitar made of bone
From the pelvis of an elephant
The bow for the fiddle
Wavers just a little
For it’s sewn with the silk
From the belly of a somber angel
All at the cost of a tear
And Silas is the favorite of the fans
But he is often absent
For the ladies’ hungry loving hands
And all together
They will weather
All the catastrophic follies known to man
Late one night in June
Farmer had a change of luck
He offered up his place to the boys in the band
When they got stuck
What’s mine is yours
Down comes Skinny Sarah Sideshow
And all the boys she’ll soon well know
A Molotov cocktail aided by a warm gale
Gave the place a rosy glow
Yes those woods went up in a mighty blaze
To this day
The 31st of May
Those ashes sift as if
To say
'This land will not heal
Nor offer us a deal,
Until those boys are back
To stay
