Accidents

Oh, come now father dear
And turn this blood to choice.
You know, I think these young are spent
And have seen their day.

My back bares the scars of work
While my sweat has cut the cost.
If my word to God isn't bond,
Then I'll be damned to say,
This can't be so bad,
Only I sure did love the way she danced.

Oh, come now preacher
When this flesh begins to spoil
You know, I think these young are done
And have seen their day.

But should I remove him from this curse
And cast away?

Oh this dirty game I play

Long-Arm, you liar!
Go run home to Mama!
A good boy never gets to dance.

Long-Arm, you liar!
Go run home to Mama!
These good boys never get a chance.

Long-Arm, you liar!
Go run home to Mama!
A good boy never gets to dance.

But Long-Arm, you liar!
Go run home to Mama!
These good boys never get a chance.